Equation With One Variable
by Lipush
Summary: <html><head></head>The truth behind Castle's disappearance may be just too difficult to live with, and as they both investigate further, Rick and Kate realize that some skeletons can't be kept forever in the closet. Beckett may not know her fiance as well as she thought. Or, not know him at all...</html>
1. foreword

_**A/N-**_** This idea came up to me this morning, after watching the episode, and I just couldn't let it go. I know I must be crazy to even consider putting it to writing, but anyway, I guess I'll have to see how it goes. **

**This will tell the story of Castle's disappearance, which will of course, have to do with his tragedy, that took place in his early youth. **

**At first, it may leave you a bit confused, but it will all get clearer, sooner than you think. I'll remember to put just enough Caskett into this, because well, they should deserve their moments, too.**

**Please read and review. Even if you hate it, especially if you have ideas of improvements.**

* * *

><p><span>Starring:<span>

Nathan Fillion... Rick Castle

Stana Katic... Kate Beckett

Jon Huertas... D. Esposito

Seamus Dever... D. Ryan

Tamala Jones... Lanie

Maya Stojan... Tory

Penny Johnson... Victoria Gates

With:

Matt Letscher... as David Swan

Chad Donella... as Jason

Michel Brown... as Franco Carlos

Brady Clark... as Nicholas

Griffin Kane... as Xander

Mackenzie Foy... as Shira

Jenna Craig... as Jordan

Kascee Murdock... as Jonathan

Braden Fitzgerald... as Jade

Special Guest-Star: Christie Burke (as Charlie)

And:

Natasha Calis... As Analíah****_  
><em>****

* * *

><p><span><em><strong>Equation With One Variable<strong>_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Foreword<strong>

* * *

><p><span> February 18th, Hollander's woods, 1983<span>

A young boy is running through the open, dark forestry, his injured, barefoot legs burn from the open bruises and cuts, the fire in his lungs is an unbearable inferno, but there is no time for that now. He's well aware of the danger.

They can't find him. He won't let them. No, they can't.

The dryness in his throat stings like needles, he's parched, hungry and tired, and all he wants is a warm bed, the comforting presence of his house, and the everlasting hold of his mother's loving arms.

But no, he can't let his guard down. He knows, chances are, he'll never see his home again, he must keep running… thoughts about home and mother won't get him anywhere.

He focuses on the here, and now. Another female relaxing voice, tiny, hesitant, but nonetheless affectionate, and that's what keeps him sane.

He keeps on running.

And the blood like freezes in his veins, as he turns around in horror, when hearing an ear deafening scream.

And then… nothing.

Richard Rodgers, 11 years old, stays still for another minute, then turns around, takes off running, completing his flee, his young legs carrying him to the unknown.

Tears cover his vision, he doesn't dare looking back.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC...<strong>


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N-**** So here we go!:) I'll update more as soon as I can. Also will hopefully update "Chekhov's Gun" and my other stories. As always, reviews are always appreciated.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>An Equation With One Variable<strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter 1<span>**

NOWDAYS:

The sun breaks through the sheds softly, as Kate opens her eyes. Reaching for the other side of the bed, to softly cuddle into her better half's warm embrace, she finds nothing but cold sheets.

She releases a soft sigh, drags herself out of bed, dizzily making her way towards the kitchen. She finds him next to the stove, about to turn on the kettle, his back to her. Needing him, she wordlessly envelops him in a hug from behind, taking comfort in the tight muscles of his back, his everlasting warmth.

At first a bit surprised, but never flinching, he offers a soft 'Hhmm', then responds to the hold gracefully.

Turning around to look at her, she smiles sleepily at him. That is something she can quickly get used to. Having him there when she wakes up… be able to hold and caress and feel his touch comforting her.

The fear takes hold every once in awhile. Clenching her insides, suffocating her. But every time it does, she only has to once again lose herself in those baby blue eyes, and realize that this nightmare is over. That he's here. He's hers and safe and so loving and _beautiful_, and she doesn't _care_ about the evidence.

Leaning in for a soft kiss, he strokes her hair tenderly, "Good morning," he greets, and she answers with a smile and a "Good morning" of her own.

"Slept well?" his tone patient, as always concerned for her wellbeing.

She nods, allowing a soft smile to reassure them both, adding- "No nightmares."

A grin reaches his face, a true one, she notices, and a tiny butterfly flutters in her tummy at this divine sight.

She wants him. She wants _them_. Like they used to be, teasing and easy-going and _so_ _in love_. But they both are reasonable mature adults, knowing they need the time to heal, to find that way back, to themselves and their honest love… it will take some time. But he's right, they'll get there.

Her phone vibrates on the table behind, and with a smile, she turns to answer.

Esposito. There has been a murder.

* * *

><p>They gather at the Upper East Side, corner of the 81st St. and the 3rd Ave. A tall building, third floor, second apartment on the left.<p>

Kate Beckett blinks thoughtfully when first noticing the crime scene. A young man, found dead in his own livingroom, nothing she's not used to encounter on daily basis, sadly.

"Name's Aaron Wilkinson, 26," Esposito says, opening his pad, "Found like this this morning, when the cleaning lady stopped by."

The young male, with dirty blonde hair, short figure, and pale skin, is covered in blood, in what may indicate a crime of passion.

"Two GSWs to the chest and left shoulder," Lanie says quietly, "Based on lividity, I'd say, about 5 or 6 hours ago. Once we get him to the morgue I'll be able to tell you more, though."

"Here is what we do know," Ryan says from behind them, and they turn around to listen carefully, "He used to toddle between jobs, last one was a pizza delivery guy, previous one in a small shop in SoHo, been unemployed since last month. That's what we gather from the apartment's owner, anyway."

Castle hesitates, "What about that owner?" he asked, "anything out of the ordinary?"

"Not that he's aware of," interjects Esposito, "Payed his bills on time, quiet guy, nothing to raise suspicion."

"Mhmm," Kate nods, "Alright, guys, let's pack this up and get back to the precinct."

* * *

><p>"No," Norbert Herolds shrugs, dumbfounded, "He asked to crash at my place for the upcoming months, I said okay. I could use the extra income, you know," the apartment owner adds, "He was a loner, for all I know. No visitors, no parties like the other wackos I had to endure ruining my property. He was quite convenient to have around, actually."<p>

Kate thinks, "Were you guys close? Did he tell you anything that might hint he was stressed, or in danger?" she tries.

Twisting his lip, Herolds shakes his head, "We weren't friends, Detective," he apologizes, "He just asked to rent. As far as I know, guy didn't have any friends, at all," he stops there, deep in thoughts, "Although…"

"Although, what?" Castle asks.

"I do know he had one friend in particular, but maybe they weren't close. They talked on the phone a lot, but not always on friendly terms."

"Do you know who that friend is?"

"Ahh, no, no idea," Herold replies, "As I said, It's not like he trusted me with his private life or anything. But I do know the name, 'cause he did repeat it in those conversations…." His forehead wrinkles in attempt to remember, and then his face lighten- "Charlie!" he says, positively, "The name was Charlie."

* * *

><p>"Well, we checked his calls," Esposito waves the tiny black smartphone, "interestingly enough, it's brand new. Only about dozen incoming calls, all blocked numbers, all going straight to voicemail. About 7 of them regarding job application, all rejected, mind you…" Beckett releases a short 'Huumf', "and another 5 from the local library. That's about it."<p>

"That's a bust," Ryan adds usefully, and Castle questions, "Is it possible that he got rid of another cellphone? Or that the killer took it to cover his tracks?"

"Most likely, that's the case," Kate nods, "Anything else? Did you check his finances?"

"Yes, and the guy was pretty much broke. Out of a job, payments were only for buses and food. But check this out, we did track an interesting thing there. Guy took a cab to Brooklyn the day he was murdered. Considering the fact that his job applications were sent only to places in his close environment, I'd ask what the hell did he look for in Brooklyn?"

Rising from her chair, Beckett's mood eases up, "Do you have an address?"

"D2 of 390 Clarkson and Church," Esposito says, and they all prepare to leave the station.

* * *

><p>It's a nice building, surrounded by bushes and small flower-beds. The place itself is painted new, warm and quite inviting.<p>

Three stores building, the cab driver they've spoken to said he remembered Aaron, the guy with the 'funny cloths', and could recall him driving behind the building towards the one floor condos.

Behind the alley, they find the small apartments' level, the way to D2 is just through the narrow sidewalk.

Castle, Kate and Esposito knock on the door, "NYPD, open up!" Kate calls, pulling out her badge.

Nothing.

Fisting her hand, Beckett slams the door, "Police!" she calls again.

Silence.

A head peeps through one of the halls, "May I help you, young ones?"

A short, elderly lady, with plump cheeks and kind face greets them, and Beckett backs to her quieter tone, "As a matter of fact, yes," she says, "We're looking for the owner of this condo."

The elderly woman smiles brightly, "Oh!" she calls, "You're looking for Charlie!" Kate and Castle exchange glances. Charlie, again… "Well, Charlie is in the laundry room, Let me just…" she turns to her right, "Charlie! Some nice people are asking for you!" she calls, than smiles at them, again, "Charlie should be right with you…" her voice is calming, "would you like some tea and cookies, while you wait? My grandson says I make the most delicious chocolate-chip cookies… don't just stand there, come in, come in!" she approaches to open her own apartment, located right next to Charlie's, apparently.

Kate holds back a smile. Something about this generation, that's so caring and loving towards others, reminds her of her grandmother. She's about to refuse, when a young voice suddenly calls from behind her, "Can I help you, folks?"

Turning around, Castle, Beckett and Espo find themselves in-front of a young girl, with wavy dark hair and green eyes. Her figure slim, skin pale, but not too pale. She blinks at them, curious. The girl seems very young, a high-school student, perhaps?

"Yeah, we're looking for Charlie…" Esposito says, seriously.

Blinking awkwardly, the girl says, "Well, _I am _Charlie. You needed me?"

Beckett arches one eyebrow. Castle tilts his head.

Oh.

* * *

><p>They sit in Charlie's livingroom. The apartment is tiny, but also quiet warm and relaxing. They all hold cups of warm peppermint tea, Alice's delicious cookies rest on the table.<p>

"I can't believe he's dead…" Charlie whispers, shocked, "Aaron was murdered? What? _why_?"

"That's… what we're trying to figure out," Beckett says slowly, Esposito examines Charlie's movements in silence, while Castle just follows, "How did you know our victim?"

"Through my mother," Charlie says quickly, "Our families have known each other since, like…way back, so… we've been struggling together, I called him a lot since moved to the United States…" she shrugs.

Castle does notice her accent now, "Moved to the… You're…French?" he asks, recognizing the accent.

"Canadian," Charlie corrects, "The French part of Canada," she adds, "Moved here about seven months ago… been kind of struggling to blend in, you know?"

Kate nods in understandment, "You two were close?" she asks.

Charlie swallows a lump in her throat, "We know each other better than any outsider ever did," she says, her voice shaking, "I guess I should have seen it… Aaron was… a handful, you know?" her face twists in a slight ache, "Been trying to find a good, stable job. Didn't go so well. And then with… with those people he hanged around with…" she shudders.

"Waaa…. What people?"

Charlie clicks her tongue, "you know how it is, you're cops," her gaze travels over Castle, "Well, at least some of you…" he narrows his eyes, "Sometimes… people need a quick way to gain money or find a way to get out of a mess. They turn to the wrong people for help… so.."

"That's what Aaron been up to?"

"Aaron was my closest friend," Charlie says, "But there are some things even I didn't know about… but in the past couple of weeks, he was… nervous… tense…"

"You know the reason?" Esposito asks.

"No," Charlie says quickly. A little too quickly.

"You tried talking to him about it?"

Charlie's eyes pass over the three, "He didn't tell me much," she herself tenses abruptly, "Probably the black market… from what he told me, it was probably the issue's core."

Beckett releases a soft 'Mhmm', then looks at her deeply, "Charlie, where were you last night between 1 and 4 AM?"

Charlie smiles, "I stayed at a girlfriend's party all night," she says, "Fact that I manage like an adult doesn't mean I can't behave like a 17 year old. You can check it, of course."

"Don't worry, we will," Esposito huffs, and the three stand up, "Thank you for your time, Charlie," Beckett hands her a card, "If is there anything else you can think off, that may help us solve this, please, feel free to call."

Pursing her lips, she takes the card, and nods, but all of them know the phone won't ring at any case. Charlie then says quietly, "I loved Aaron," her pupils speak of honesty, they can tell, "I want to know the truth. Who's behind this. But I'm afraid I can't help you."

With that, she closes the door, and they're left with nothing but silence.

* * *

><p>"Tell you this," Esposito determines, as the three return to the car, "she knows more than she's letting on."<p>

Beckett's hair waves, the wind hitting her face softly, she nods, "I got that much… I wanna know what she's holding back. Besides her alibi, go through her phone calls and whereabouts. The two of them were close, I want know just how much. Get me everything you can on Charlie Tanner."

"On it," he says.

* * *

><p>Castle sits in his chair, doodling over a paper, as Beckett tries to find something that will shed some light over this case, going through their victim's E-mail.<p>

"Nothing," she mutters, frustrated, leans back in her chair.

Castle's about to say something, when Esposito calls, "Beckett!"

"Yes?" she questions.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asks carefully.

Her eyes narrowing, she nods, "Yes," and with a soft smile, she tells Castle, "be right back."

She enters the waiting room, Esposito right behind her, shutting the door.

"What's up?"

He blinks at her, and quietly says, "We got a list of Charlie's phone records," he hands them over for Beckett to have a good look at.

"Oh, good!" Beckett's mood improves, "Enything suspicious?"

"Oh, I don't know, you tell me!" Esposito screeches his teeth, whispering frustratingly.

"What… are you talking about?" Beckett asks, frowning.

"Look at the list," Esposito says, "Look at the dates, the time, the _number_."

Beckett does, and what she sees make her want to gag.

There, down the list, is the beautifully familiar number.

Castle's number.

"She's been calling him almost every night, starting March 10th."

March 10th. The book-tour.

Traveling down the list, she noticed the calls continued after that, too. April, May...

But that… That can't _be_. Castle's phone records were thoroughly checked, following his disappearance. No calls from Charlie's number. No unfamiliar calls at all.

"Beckett," Esposito exhales, "What the hell is going _on_?!"


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N-****I'd like to thank you all for your awesome reviews, keep 'em coming! **

**I know that now events seem mostly confusing, and unrelated to each other, but in the next few chapters things will get much clearer.**

**Of course, we'll also be faced with what happened to Castle, now, and back when he was a young boy, and will also realize how (or if) the case in question is related to Castle's disappearance.**

**Still with me?**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Equation with one variable:<strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter 2:<span>**

Castle checks the calls-list, going over it once, twice, then third time, again. Frowning, he looks at Beckett, speechless. Her arms folded across her chest, she's looking for an explanation. A hell of an explanation, because frankly, she's in the dark here, and she doesn't like the feeling of being kept out of the loop.

"I have no idea who this girl is," Castle says finally, simply.

They're in the break room, standing in-front of each other, both holding cups of fresh coffee, Castle currently tries to justify himself, offer something to calm down his girl.

Not good enough, he realizes, as Beckett let's go of an impatient sigh. "Castle!" she warns.

He expects that, "I swear to you, that's the truth!" he argues, "First time I ever saw her was during her questioning." His eyes deep, forehead wrinkled, he has a desperate look on his face, obviously trying to make her understand and believe him.

And God, she wants to, but this… all of this, doesn't make any sense. Each passing moment she discovers something new, that gives another aspect of dishonesty, and she hangs on a thread, wanting and choosing to trust him time and time again… but she wants answers, and wants them now.

"It's your number down the list, Castle," she says slowly, "she started calling you during your last book-tour, when I was chasing the leads to nail down Bracken."

He shakes his head, "The book tour…" he says tiredly, "Kate, you know how that's like… crazy fans trying to contact me during my tours… not the first time someone got hold of my number, and…"

"Castle," Beckett exhales, trying to hold herself together, "You and I both now that this is not a crazed fan, but a very calculated girl…"

"Kate, I never spoke with that girl before yesterday, I tell you the truth," his face serious, he needs to make her see that he's not joking.

Biting her lip, her gaze is of shooting arrows, "I don't know what's going on, here, Castle, and like you, I'd like to find out, but I can't do that unless you tell me everything."

"I do tell you everything," he insists.

Clicking her tongue, Beckett nods, giving up the battle for now, "Well, there must have been a reason why she called you. Did she look familiar when you saw her? Any reason why she'd want to contact you?"

"Nothing that I can think of," he says, handing her back the list, "It's so frustrating. I know I did something, something I wished to erase from my mind, but this… I can't imagine why I would choose _this_…"

It wasn't about this, Beckett wanted to argue, but decides not to push.

She'd find out what this is all about.

Sooner or later.

* * *

><p>"Don't know much about your mystery-girl," Esposito says, "However, I did discover a few interesting things about our boy Aaron Wilkinson," the two male detectives approach Beckett's desk, "Like the fact that he was hospitalized a few weeks ago, with multiple internal wounds, after a major fight with a work colleague," at the funny faces glaring back at him, he shrugs and adds, "the small shop he worked at, for like…" eyes on the reports again, he chuckles, "three and a half weeks."<p>

Kate rolls her eyes, "Do you have a name?"

Ryan smiles, "Name and address, my dear friend." He hands Beckett the file, Castle rolls the chair to have a better look over his fiance's shoulder, "Our guy's name is Franco Carlos…" Beckett is met with a small photo of a young man with dusty-blonde hair and dark eyes, "An Argentinean immigrant. And get this… neighbors claim they saw the two having the fist fight a few days before he was killed. Building-cams caught the act in all its glory. According to the Aaron's neighbors, Carlos threatened to 'Find Aaron and make him pay'."

'Oh_, finally_ a good lead!' Beckett smiles, and Castle nods quickly, "Alright, guys, lets get him into the box."

* * *

><p>Franco Carlos sits in front of the chair in the interrogation room, every once in awhile his gaze travels around, obviously fascinated by the cameras.<p>

Twitching his fingers lightly, he's nervous, body moves tell that much.

The door is opened, and Detective Kate Beckett enters the room, tossing a folder on the table, ignoring Carlos' curious and careful eyes, passing over her with both fear and appreciation.

"Franco Carlos," she says officially, "I assume you know why you're here?" she takes her seat infront of him, arms folded callously.

Carlos blinks, "No," he says slowly, "I don't."

"Mhmm," Beckett purses her lips, then slams Wilkinson's photo on the table, "Do you recognize this man, Carlos?" she asks, but there is no need for small talk. The tiny twitch of the right lip, the exposal of teeth in a loathing sneer, tells her everything she needs to know.

Carlos nods, "His name is Wilkinson," he growls, turning his eyes momentarily from the photo, then back at her, "why?"

"Well," Beckett opens her folder, "this man was murdered 40 hours ago, conveniently enough after you threatened him. Mind telling me about that?"

Carlos' eyes widen, "_Virgen santisima_," he mutters, then his eyes return to the detective, defiantly, "I was on bad terms with him, that's true," he shakes his head, the heavy Argentinian accents never escaping her notice, "But I didn't kill him."

Ignoring the last part, Beckett presses, "Why were you two on such bad terms?"

Carlos sighs, and after a short pause, he says, "We moved to New York awhile ago," to Beckett's narrowing eyes he replies, "Me, and Victoria. My girlfriend," he swallows, forehead wrinkles, "We started working together in this small shop, of home accessories…" he scratches his scalp awkwardly, as Beckett takes notes, "We had a small home, we were happy. And then he," his gaze returns to Wilkinson's photograph, "Comes along… starts harassing Victoria. Following her… scaring her… I wanted him to stop."

Beckett nods, "So… you went to his place to confront him?"

Carlos nods, "Yes," he says, his voice turning stronger and more stable, "I needed to protect Victoria. I needed him to just stop. But he won't back off…"

Beckett remains thoughtful. "On that night, when we went all physical, I kind of lost it…" he confesses, "Victoria and I were to meet few days earlier at the theatre… but she never showed. She didn't pick up the phone and her place was abandoned. I thought Wilkinson did…something to her."

Blinking, Beckett continues, "Where is Victoria now, Franco?" she asks.

An expression of pain covers his face, "I don't know!" he says, voice shaking, "You tell me he is dead, and my Victoria missing… I don't know where she is!"

He doesn't, does he?

"Mr. Carlos, where were you last night between 1 and 5 AM?" she asks smoothly.

A dark expression covers the man's face. "I was at home…sleeping."

"Can anyone verify that?" Beckett's silky voice chills him to the bone.

"No," Carlos says, "I don't think so…"

Beckett nods, "So, basically, you admit you have no alibi for the murder of a man you threatened to kill?"

With a blink, Carlos falls silent; chin raised in protest, "I want a lawyer," he answers, "I said all I had to say. I want my lawyer, now."

* * *

><p>"Well, it can prove itself to be another one of the most common of murders…" Castle theorizes, leaning back in his chair dramatically, "A man wishes to protect his beloved's honor, chasing down the enemy to smite then down in an act of heroism…." His glance thoughtful, "well, besides the cold-blooded murder aspect, of course…" he says slowly.<p>

Kate can't help but grin.

"Yeah," Esposito adds, "and besides the small fact that he can be totally making it all up," Castle tilts his head, and Esposito further explains, "Talked with the shop manager. Victoria and Our vic were never on bad terms, like our guy says. The shop manager described them as 'very friendly' toward one another. In fact, once he caught a nice show of Victoria herself trying to protect Wilkinson from her boyfriend's wrath."

Castle arched his eyebrows, and then his expression smoothes, "So…" he smiles, "maybe it's not about heroism…" he and Beckett exchange looks, "maybe it's about just pure jealousy. He sees another man eyeing his woman, and goes for the guns."

Beckett shrugs, "What we do know is that he has no alibi," she tosses the folder on her desk, "and he lawyered out. Maybe we could just cut a deal with him…make him confess."

Ryan appears from behind, suddenly, "As expected," he says casually, handing Esposito enother folder, "Charlie alibied out. Girl was indeed at the party, her friend Lucy said "it was a blast". Alice and another neighbor remember seeing her coming back home at 12:45. Apparently, never left her apartment afterwards. Couldn't…" he says awkwardly, "As she was totally wasted."

"Ahh," Beckett sighs, and Castle nods. It doesn't surprise him. He suspected Charlie was not their girl.

That's were something pops to his mind, "does Charlie know our suspect?"

"No," Esposito says shortly, "But she does know the name he had given us, about another guy who had 'bad blood' with our vic. Name's Fredrick Hiegs," Esposito hangs a small photo on the murder board, "Our suspect keeps saying it was not him, but claims this guy," he points at the photo, of a middle-aged man, with heavy dark beard, "this guy, Fredrick, a previous partner our vic tried number of gigs with, didn't get his cash for months, and he himself wanted a piece of Wilkinson."

"Well, It can be that he just tries to throw us off," Ryan says usefully.

"Possible," Beckett nods, "And quite likely. But I do like to cover all our bases. What did the girl say, that she knows who he is?"

"Yeah," Esposito replies, "seemed like a nice enough guy, back in the day, she said. They weren't always seeing eye to eye, but according to her, no reason for murder there. However, it would be smart to get this guy also into the box."

"I agree," Beckett summons, "Ryan, Espo, I want you to bring Fredrick Heigs over. Our best suspect is still Carlos, but let's see what the old partner has to say about all of this."

* * *

><p>It was late afternoon, when Beckett entered the bullpen, facing Tory and Esposito, "Hey, guys," she greets, "you called, what's up?"<p>

"Yo, Beckett," Esposito says, "So, the Heigs thing was a total bust. Dude's MIA for like a couple of days, we have search warrant in place, but I doubt that'll do any good, now…" he pauses, then turns to Tory, who nods slowly.

"But… that's not the reason we've called. It's regarding the, uh… other, issue, you signed us up for?"

Of course. Charlie, the odd girl who gave Beckett the strange feeling, earlier.

"Things about this kid just keep getting weirder," he says, then signs with his fingers, tilting his head towards the break room, "C'mon, let's take this somewhere private."

Blinking, she follows them into the small room, "what is it?"

Tory looks embarrassed, somewhat, and also confused, something which doesn't go well with her.

She hands Beckett some files, "Well," she says, "most of the thing regarding the girl were pretty normal… besides the calls, but then there was something that left me quite… unsettled."

"What do you mean?"

"Charlie currently attends a good school, good grades," Tory says slowly, "even though she lives alone. Pays her rent like a clock, no family in the United States. But in those seemly regular and normal lists, something cached my eye."

"Weehh, what is it?" Beckett flips the folder open.

"Charlie stopped using her credit card for nearly a month," Tory says, "more accurately, she stopped everything for nearly a month. School absence, no shopping, no hanging out with classmates, not even a bus ticket… it's like she completely went off the grid for 24 days. Her parents reported her missing after not hearing from her in weeks. Then, out of the blue she reappears, and it's all fine, again."

Beckett blinks, "And not only that," Tory adds, "This time of absence started May 13th." The last part said slowly.

Beckett feels dizzy. Like something slammed her head. Hard.

"This girl starts calling Castle around March," Esposito thinks aloud, "Goes missing the day of your wedding, the same day Castle himself disappears…." He frowns, "Wait… Didn't this girl say she's Canadian?"

_Oh, God._

"Now, theoretically, it CAN be just one hell of a coincidence… but if it isn't…"

"…Then Charlie's somehow involved in all this…" Beckett whispers feebly.

* * *

><p><span>NEXT CHAPTER…<span>

…_**" He never told me anything about what happened there. In the woods. I was just glad to have him home, didn't dare to ask much. But whatever happened in the woods,**_

_**Stayed in the woods…"**_


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N-**** I'd like to, once more, thank you all for your support. You guys are great.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Equation With One Variable:<strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>CHAPTER 3:<strong>

Questions.

Questions on top of questions… is all that Charlie's file offers them.

Leaving the break-room, followed by Esposito and Tory, she knows, she _feels_ that there's something she's missing, here.

She just can't put her finger on it.

"You said her parents reported her missing?" Beckett asks, coming to a halt near her desk. Esposito just nods.

"Fine," Chewing on her lip thoughtfully, Beckett adds, "Bring them over, I'd like to speak to them, if you don't mind."

Javier and Tory exchange curious looks. Tory offers a light shrug.

Esposito then glances back at Beckett, "Working on it," he says.

* * *

><p>"Anything out of our suspect, yet?" this case drives slow, quite tiring her, and thing could really improve once they get a confession out of Carlos.<p>

His gaze traveling around, Ryan stands up from behind his desk, shaking his head, "No," he replies, scratching his nape, "Espo's now with him and the lawyer again. He doesn't say much, keeps asking about Victoria. I think it'll take some time."

Exhaling impatiently, "Time we don't have. Most of what we hold against him is circumstantial. We need something concrete…" she clarifies, "What does CSU say?"

"Nothing helpful," the Irish detective offers, "not so far, anyway. But they're still working on that, so…"

"Any word from Lanie?"

Another headshake, "No."

Well that's just great. She's about to add something that may sound a bit sarcastic, when a soft voice behind her is heard- "Hello… I'm here to see detective Beckett?"

Turning around, Kate is faced with a short woman, who appears to be in her 40's. Her look conveys confusion, like she's not overly sure of her surroundings.

"Yes, I am she." Beckett approaches her.

"My name is Natasha Tanner," The woman says, her tongue rolls in a somewhat familiar accent, "You called me about Charlie?"

Beckett nods, "Yes, please. Come on in," she guides her into the break-room, again. Natasha offers a tiny polite nod towards Esposito, before disappearing into the room.

The door is locked behind them.

* * *

><p>They take their seat in-front of each other in silence, Natasha sips on her glass of water. "Thank you for coming over, Natasha," Beckett begins kindly.<p>

"Of course," Natasha answers, "What can I help you with?"

After a short pause, Beckett asks, "I.. I came to know Charlie through a case I'm currently working on… A friend of hers, Aaron Wilkinson, was murdered; I guess she told you about that?"

Natasha hesitates, "We…." She say awkwardly, "We're not that close anymore, detective," she shrugs, "She was closer to my husband, Steven, more. Daddy's little girl…" she smiles weakly, and Kate mirrors her smile, "He passed away a few years ago… Lung infection…" her voice shakes a bit.

Beckett is quiet for a moment, then says, "I'm sorry to hear that…"

"Yeah, well. Charlie was very young, and she took it pretty hard… no-one ever understood her and protected her like Steve, so…" lowering her gaze, she struggles to compose herself, "My brother and myself took care of her, but it was hardly enough… she reached that rebellious teen-stage before I could blink… dreamed about moving to the US. I wanted to be with her, you know?" another shrug, "I followed her here, after missing her terribly… But she was…very independent. Already got her own place… she didn't want to live with me, so I kind of learned to hold back…. For her."

Listening carefully, Beckett takes her words in, "I know just a couple of her friends. The name of that young man doesn't ring a bell, I'm afraid."

Kate leans forward in her chair, "Mrs. Tanner," she says, softly, "I know that weeks back, she suddenly disappeared for a long period," Natasha's expression darkens, "Could you tell me more about that?"

Taking a deep breath, the mother replies, "Yes…" she says, "It happened on May. Out of the blue, she vanished. I couldn't get her own the phone, she wasn't in here place…she didn't attend school or used her credit card… I didn't know what to do. I called the cops, but they couldn't be much of a help, either."

Beckett feels a twinge of a dull ache, listening to Natasha. A familiar twitch in her gut. Losing a loved one all of a sudden, not knowing if they're safe… not having the slightest clue about their whereabouts.

It hurts.

"So…what happened?"

Natasha seems to consider her words, "She went missing," her words are calculated, slow, "And suddenly, 3 weeks later, she's back home. Like nothing. Won't tell me anything… keep things to herself… she became… distant."

Beckett gulps, feeling her lips growing dry, "Was there anything…" she clears her throat, "Was there anything to indicate a possible reason for her disappearance?"

Natasha shakes her head, "No," she answers, "but weeks before she went missing, I began to notice she was a little…nervous. Nothing to worry me, I was sure it was just about her finals, you know? But I guess I missed something, back then…"

Maybe that's Natasha and Beckett both.

Beckett slowly stands up, "Mrs. Tanner, thank you for coming," she hands her a card, "If there's anything else you need, please, don't hesitate to call."

* * *

><p>It's late evening when Kate's finally back at the warm loft. Castle was still at Gina, handling her a new manuscript.<p>

Entering the warm apartment, she finds Martha sitting near the table, reading an old paper. When seeing her, she smiles broadly, "Oh, Katherine, you're home!" she beams, "Is Richard with you?" she doesn't see him, though.

"No," Kate answered, "He just called, will be home in about twenty minutes," she softly tosses the car-keys and the jacket on the table. Seeing the bottle of wine still open, she softly asks, "Mind if I join you?"

"No, not at all, please!" Martha's warm tone always present, Kate takes her seat in front of her.

Noticing her future-daughter-in-law struggling to keep her eyes open, she softly chuckles, "Tough case?" she teases.

Beckett nods, groaning, "an exhausting one…" she answers slowly, "I could use some wine," and she reaches for a glass, Martha slowly pushes the bottle towards her.

After a comfortable silence, Martha says, "I didn't get the chance to thank you, Katherine," at her confused expression, he older woman replies, "For all you did for Richard, in those past days… I couldn't start to imagine…" she frowns, "I know you'd give him all your love and support."

Kate locks eyes with Martha, "I'd do anything for Rick," she says without hesitation.

Martha nods, "I know," she emits, "If anyone could, It's you… I was never able to… It's just that…this whole situation reminds me so much of…" she falls silent, like realizing she may have just reveled too much.

But Beckett's heartbeat already thumbs in her ears, "Reminds you of what… what?" she urges, hangs on every word.

Releasing a sigh, Martha says finally- "This reminds me so much of the first time Richard disappeared."

* * *

><p><span>Hollander's woods, SAME TIME:<span>

"Dude, this place sucks _ass,"_ a young, teenage boy with curled brown hair huffs in annoyance, "Did you have to hook us up with this chick in this friggin hell-hole?"

"Will you shutup?!" the tall young man with soft red hair snaps at him with annoyance, "You whine like a pussy, just keep walking, it shouldn't be far, now."

"Bro, I'm freezin'."

"You didn't have to come with, Brian," the first young man sneers, "You could just stay with Shelly back at the cabin. Last thing I need is for you to turn me off completely."

The two young men kept their slow walk, their boots meeting the soft muddy land with a wet-like squishy sound, the temperature way too low for their liking, but Brian didn't say another word.

Jared showed him a picture of this hot girl, Molly-somethin', the greatest piece of ass, he said, and there was something about the woods, like, totally hot. Figuratively speaking, off course, as he felt his teeth chatter uncontrollably.

Their flashlight in Jared's hands, they kept a slow pace, the woods surrounding them from all directions. They left the group awhile ago, Samantha insisted on a slumber party with the girls, back at the cabin, and share some scary stories.

Pffft. Like anything could scare _them_!

_"Are we there yet?"_

Jesus!

"Brian, If you won't shut up in like, 3 seconds, I'll stick that fuckin' flashlight up your nostril, I swear I…"

"Wait!" Brian interrupts, "Dude, what is _that_?"

"What's _what_?" Brian asks impatiently.

"That! On the ground," in the darkness, he points at a specific spot.

The two lads approach the spot in question slowly. Terribly slowly. Through the dim light, they notice a figure… young figure, lying on the ground, unmoving.

It's a young woman, her long curly blonde hair splashes on the land like a silk-blanket. She's pale, unresponsive. Dressed in a pink blouse and short jeans, she's very still, her eyes open in horror.

"Dude, that's not Molly!" Brian says the obvious, "Is she… Man, is she _dead_?"

The rhetorical question is answered with the soft forest-breeze.

A panicked scream is then heard in the Dark Hollander's forest.

* * *

><p>Listening carefully, Kate doesn't dare to cut through Martha's story.<p>

"It was a long time ago," the actress takes another sip of the wine, then softly putting the glass back on the table, "I was having a trouble getting the major part I wanted… Richard was a very young boy at the time…" she continues, "We thought, a break for a short time period… from all of this, would do us good…" she purses her lips.

"We found this cabin, in the woods…"releasing a soft humorless chuckle, she smiles, "Can you imagine, Martha Rogers surrounded by nature?" Kate smiles back at her, "It was awful… but I could see Richard was happy. No pressure. Just him and the endless forest."

Beckett can see it in her mind, her fiancé running about the forest, completely carefree. She want to grasp that image, hold onto it. It seems… surreal.

"He had no playmates there," Martha said, "But he was happy, even if was alone. Run outside early morning to play…come back late noon. I knew he loved it… so I didn't say anything."

"One day…" her expression changes then, her voice darkening, "He didn't come back at noon," Beckett's heartbeat quickens, "I looked all over the fields, but couldn't find him anywhere. I waited more than a few hours, thinking, he lost track of time, took the wrong turn, and will be back soon… but he didn't come back when darkness fell."

Gulping, Martha continues, "we had one old telephone in that cabin, I called the police, told them about what happened. They came with the dogs to search for him, but couldn't find any clue to where he was."

Tracing a long finger over the glass of wine, Martha then adds, "They released a report about a missing boy, but since it was during 'Dark February', Richard's name was just one more on 'the list'."

Of course, Dark February…

Back then, the early 80's, there was a period of time where children suddenly went missing in the East Coast, and surrounding areas. Bodies were found; some never appeared again… there were about 10 or 12 children unaccounted for long months. So it was logical why Richard Roger's name won't win special preference.

"I was worried sick… I feared for him… I cursed myself for ever bringing him into those woods…" Martha keeps going, "I prayed…to God, the Universe, whatever it was….to bring him back…"

Licking her lips, Beckett then asks, "What happened?"

Scratching her nose, Martha replies, "It was about, two weeks after his disappearance, when a man on duty noticed a small boy in the forest… It was Richard."

Kate's eyes widen, and Martha says with a quiet voice, "I couldn't believe it. He was alive. Safe," she tells, "all dirty, scratched from the forest, he was mostly frightened… when we asked what happened, he said he fell into a burrow, hurt his leg, and couldn't find his way back…" she's thoughtful, "he ate fruits most of the days, but was almost completely parched… we gave him water…warmed him up…" she shrugs, "He refused to share… to tell us what happened, exactly."

"I was at first just glad to have him home, but…"

"But?" Beckett asks.

"I couldn't help but thinking that… there was something else. For nights to follow, he'll wake up screaming… he asked to not be "kept in the dark." Wished to sleep in my bed. He was never do depended on my, like on those days to follow."

"I kept thinking those were probably the animals who scared him, but maybe…"

"You think there was something else?" Kate asks, "Something more, he didn't want to share?"

Martha locks eyes with her, again, "He never really told me anything, about what happened there… in the words," she explains, "I was just glad to have him home… Didn't dare to ask much. But…whatever happened in the woods, stayed in the woods."

* * *

><p>"Well, that's gonna give that forest a bad name, Stanley."<p>

"Tell me about that…" the young Sherriff in duty answers, his helmet's flashlight flickering. He's squatting down, next to the body, his partner, Robert, feels suddenly sick.

"What the hell happened to her?" he questions, shocked.

"Hell if I know, those two bozos," he points at two green-faced boys, "Found her like this," he gestures toward the young deceased woman, "come and give me a hand, here, will ya?" he asks, signing for the other man to approach, "Let's get this poor beautiful thing outta this dump."

Nodding, the Sherrif's partner takes his place next to him, "Let's see if we can find who she is…"

Searching over the body, Robert suddenly calls, "Ah-ha!" he smiles, "Got an ID." He grabs it, flipping it open.

"What's her name, then?" the Sheriff asks.

"Let me see…." Roberts directs his own flashlight to the tiny card, "Santos," he says, "Her name is Victoria Santos."

* * *

><p><span><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong>

**"I don't get this. What does this girl have to do with Rick? What really happened in those woods?"**

**"I don't know, Kate. But if evidence really does tell the story, you should ask yourself where is Anal****í****ah. She probably holds the answer to this mystery."**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N-**** So here's the next chapter. Hold on, folks, it's going to be a bumpy and angsty ride.**

**This story now has an official poster. PM me to see it, if you'd like. **

**Reviews are always appreciated. All mistakes are mine.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Equation With One Variable:<strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 4:<strong>

* * *

><p>When her lover finally sinks into bed next to her, she doesn't move, her eyes shut, she attempts to enforce sleep on her fatigued body.<p>

Shutting the light out, she can feel darkness embracing them both, his broad chest pressed to her back, wide arms enveloping her in a hug.

But behind soft eyelids, she's wide awake.

Thinking, imagining, she wishes to fall into restful slumber, just…ceasing.

It's 15 minutes later when she does fall asleep, dreaming of little boys running around the forest.

Lost.

* * *

><p>They're back at the precinct first thing in the morning, Castle uncharacteristically quiet, and Beckett doesn't push.<p>

She's still somewhat overwhelmed by the story Martha shared with her the previous evening. Castle never told her anything regarding this experience in the woods. Thinking better of it, he didn't share much of his childhood stories with her at all.

They were both so invested in her own demons, her own tragedy of Johanna Beckett's murder, she didn't take the steps required to try and bring down his walls, as well.

And who doesn't have a certain burden they wish to hold back?

As they both exit the elevator, cup of coffee in hand, they're greeted by Esposito, "Yo," he calls, "We've got a fresh one. Straight out of Hollander's woods up north, they say it's related to our case, Lanie's working on it now."

Neither one of them notices Castle's darkening expression, his body twisting into a deep frown, forehead wrinkled in stiffness.

Beckett nods, then turns to her fiancé, "Let's go check it out, Castle," she says, then gives a light head-tilt when seeing his tense expression, "Are you ok, Babe?" she asks softly.

Nodding wordlessly, he emits, "peachy," then adds, "Let's go."

* * *

><p>They enter the Morgue swiftly, and Lanie already awaits them. "Good morning," she greets with a smile. While Beckett returns it, Castle just nods.<p>

"What do we have here, Lanie?" Beckett questions.

"She was brought here about an hour ago," Lanie says, gesturing towards the body, "found in Hollander's forest last night, signs of strangulation and abuse," she shows them the bruises on the girl's neck and face.

'It truly is a sad thing,' Castle think. The girl is very beautiful, with wavy blonde hair, pale skin and slim figure. Who would do this?

"But that's not the interesting thing, it's the reason you were called here…" Lanie arches her eyebrows in important, "ID tells us this girl is Victoria Santos," she says that slowly.

Castle eyes widen, and he seems to realize he held his silence long enough, "Victoria Santos?" he asks, Beckett exchanges a shocked look with him, "Franco Carlos' girlfriend?"

"That's the one," Lanie folded her arms, "based on lividity, she's been dead for at least 50 hours."

Beckett's eyes are on the body, "What would a girl like that be doing in the forest?" the detective wrinkles her forehead in thought.

Castle seems considering, "I guess we have a lot to talk about with our suspect," he concludes.

* * *

><p>"SHE'S DEAD?!" Franco Carlos howls in agony, his posture somewhat bent, unstable, and he catches and pulls on his soft hair with despair.<p>

"Carlos, sit down," Beckett orders sternly.

They're back at the interrogation room, Beckett's mood dead serious, and she wants answers.

Their suspect is deep in grief, mumbling to himself, horrified at what he hears. Falling back to the chair, he looks at her wide-eyed, like begging her to take back what she just said.

"They killed my Victoria?..." he stutters frantically.

Sitting down in front of him, Beckett nods, "Victoria is dead, Franco," she says nothing more.

Carlos' soft sobs fill the tiny room. His palms cover his face, and he shakes his head repeatedly. Lowering them shortly after, his tearful eyes convey sorrow and disbelief. "_Mi pobre Vicrotia_…" he whispers painfully, "_que te hicieron_, _mi vida_…"

Beckett lets him have his moment, but does not intent on giving him an easy pass, "You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?" she narrows her eyes at him, threateningly.

Taking a deep breath, he asks, "They killed my Victoria, what do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me what happened! With Wilkinson, with her, I need the truth, or is it that you want to be nailed down for double murder?!"

His eyes widen, "You think I killed my princess?" his bottom lips shaking, "That's insane! I didn't hurt her, and I surely didn't kill Wilkinson!"

Beckett believes him. On the Victoria part, anyways, as he been in custody for the last couple of days, based on… not much.

He was seen at the crime scene, had history with the vic… But there's something they all miss here.

"What was the relationship between Aaron and Victoria, and don't tell me he harassed her, because we know that's inaccurate, to say the least. I want some answers, and I want them _now_."

Gulping, Franco Carlos nods, "Alright," he sighs, "I'll tell you."

Beckett flips open her pad.

"At first it was nothing major. He kept telling her how pretty she was. How she's wasting herself at the shop, that he could show and give her better things than me…" he pauses momentarily, "At first I thought, like I told you, he was harassing her, she was… confused, misguided even. You saw her, you know how pretty she was…" another short pause, "I thought he was out for her gorgeous looks, and honestly, who wouldn't? she… she was perfect…"

"But then, I started noticing it was more than that… that guy was bad news. He had strange friends, had business with the wrong kind of people… he wanted to pull Victoria into the wrong kind of society… told her he has a job offer for them both, a secret one, she shouldn't tell me about… I…-"

"What job offer?" Beckett cuts through his words.

Carlos tilts his head, "You're an experience detective," he says, "A beautiful girl like Victoria….what do you think?"

Pursing her lips, she has to admit the options are not many. Prostitution. Drugs. 'Special' Deliveries.

But that's a serious accusation, "You tell me Wilkinson was a pimp?" she arches an eyebrow; "we looked for any suspicious activity, and found nothing to indicate that."

"I'm not sure _what_ that man was up to," says Carlos, "but it was nothing good, believe me."

Taking another breath, he continues, "Victoria thought he was charming," Carlos starts playing with his fingers, "the thought was pathetic. If I was going to lose her, it better would have been to a guy with an honest stable job, not a lowlife like that!" he begins to pull on his hairs again, "They start handing around a lot, she tells me not to worry, that's she'll take that job offer, whatever it was he set her into, and we'll be rich…."

"Then out of the blue she comes and tells me it's nothing like she thought… that this man's dangerous… begs me to free her of whatever it was he trapped her in…"

Beckett's expression grows serious, "Is that why you went to confront him?" she asks.

"Of course!" he replies, "You think I went there just out of jealousy?" he shakes his head, "I'm not a teenage boy, I know better," he insists, "I went to his friggin apartment in Queens, multiple times, to demand him to-"

"Wait," Beckett closes her eyes, than opens them again, "Queens? Wilkinson lived at the upper east side."

Blinking, Wilkinson answers, "Well, yeah. That's where he sleeps. But he and a bunch of couple other losers held this place in queens, he'll come crashing there to keep people like me from setting him straight."

Gaping, Beckett shakes her head.

Behind the thick glass of the one-sided mirror, Castle softly mumbles, "Well, that's an interesting turn of events."

* * *

><p>Checking Victoria's body carefully, Lanie Parish carefully goes through all the findings. Fingerprints, belongings, clothes. Bruises. Anything to give a hint on who did this to her.<p>

Her body, like suspected, was clean of fingerprints, only indication she was even touched by anyone were those deep wounds, her beautiful snow-skin purple and green and imperfect.

But the belongings told a different story.

Victoria was dressed with a think fabric, which didn't fit her side, and looked like once belonged to a small woman, or a little girl. How she fit in those close was a mystery.

To her neck, trying to cover signs of strangulation, was a small, red flowered scarf. Examining the scarf carefully, she was lucky to find a trace of fingerprints, after multiple attempts at figuring this out.

More than one set of fingerprints. But as she crosses them with any data in the system, Lanie has to grab on the table, as what she sees makes no sense, whatsoever.

"What on earth…." She mumbles, "That can't be!"

* * *

><p>"Fredrick Heigs," Carlos said, "I know he payed him a visit, there was bad blood between them, over…. I don't know what… they had this gig that didn't bring any costumers, like… at all. He owed him money, I guess."<p>

"Was Heigs one of those 'losers' to hold the place in queens?" Beckett asks.

"Yeah," he says, "But don't be surprised of you don't get hold of him, he usually travels a lot, and chances are he's gone for a long time…"

Sighing, the detective is about to ask something more, when her phone rings. "Beckett," she says automatically.

"Hee….hey, sweetie," Lanie says carefully, "When you're done there, come down to the morgue, there's something you need to see. It can't wait." Her tone is calculated…. "And bring no-one with you."

A strange request, but all means, but Beckett doesn't ask further, "Be right there," she answers and hangs up, "Carlos, we'll continue this soon enough."

* * *

><p>Bursting into the morgue, Beckett saves her greetings, "I'm here, Lane, what's the 911?"<p>

"This," she tilts her head towards the body, voice a bit shaken, "more accurately, THIS," she takes the scarf in her hand, "Kate, I tried to test her cloths and belongings, to find anything on our killer… but instead found more questions."

"Carry on," Beckett encourages her.

"I tested the fabrics on her, and the scarf, and found sets of fingerprints on the clothing, specifically the scarf around her neck."

"Well, that's good!" replies Beckett, "Do we have the sets in our system?"

"Oh, yes, we do," Lanie responds, taking a folder from the shelf, opening it on the table, "two." She informs her-

"One that belongs to a child," Beckett arches an eyebrow, "A female, named Analíah Vasquez. Born 1970. And the other…" she pauses dramatically, then whispers, "Kate…"

The detective checks the other name on the list, and feels like gagging.

Rick's name mocks her from the paper.

* * *

><p>Richard Castle's gaze arrows the nervous suspect, still in questioning, now by Esposito.<p>

His lawyer breaks into the Detective's speech every now and then, but Esposito handles it gracefully.

Castle's eyes are on the suspect, though, and he grits his teeth in anger, "Why did you have to get involved in this, Carlos?" he seethes, "couldn't you just… let it go?"

* * *

><p>"Rick…" Beckett mumbles, "his fingerprints…. on this?" she glances on the scarf, then on Victoria, "But how…?"<p>

Slowly, Lanie gives further information, "The fingerprints are faded… not 'attempt erasing' faded, but old faded…" she says, "After further checking, it seems like they're at least a two decades old. Could be much more than that; my guess, about 25-30 years ago."

Letting this information sink, Beckett asks, "He touched this scarf when he was a boy?"

Shaking her head, Lanie responds, "Not just the scarf. Multiple fingerprints appear all over the cloths. The shirt, the pants. Both him and the other girl came in touch with the cloths Victoria was found in."

Looking at the test-results, Beckett tries to figure out what it all means.

Analíah Vasquez. She can't put her finger on it, but the name sounds familiar, somehow. She's sure she heard of it before.

Trying to dig into her memory, she huffs in frustration when she gets nothing, and Lanie continues, "The time stamp of both set of prints should probably be early 80s, as they are both equally faded in the same manner…"

And then it hits her.

The name.

"Analíah Vasquez," she mumbles, almost head-palming herself, "Of course!"

"Whe…what are you doing?" Lanie asks when seeing Beckett's hand dug in her pocket.

She pulls her iphone out, starts clicking urgently, "I know it rang a bell," she says, to herself mostly, then to Lanie, she turns the phone so Lanie can have a better look at her open browser.

"Analíah Vasquez," Lanie reads quietly, "Born April 19th, 1970, disappeared on September 2nd, 1974."

Eyes widen, Lanie takes the phone from Beckett's hands, as the detective says, "We learned about this case in the academy. This girl," the website offers a faded image of a little girl, her hair raven-black, and eyes deep brown, "disappeared early morning from her grandmother's house. It was one of those mythological cold-cases cops know as legends to live by. They couldn't find even the smallest clue regarding her situation or location," Lanie's eyes widen even more as she looks at her best-girl, "She just….vanished. No ransom demands… no witnesses. Nothing."

It surely comes as shock. As they both realize what it means, the shock converts to astonishment, "You want to tell me…" Beckett says, "That we just found evidence concerning the Analíah Vasquez case?" it seems like someone is pulling one on her. This can't be real.

Lanie has to get her to realize how real this really is. "Girl, the fingerprints I found were faded, but the size of them were not of a small child. It is of a young girl, well into her teens."

Oh. _My God_.

Beckett's body starts to vibrate.

The cloths found in the woods…. Castle… CASTLE'S prints all over the cloths…. "But…." She gulps, "I don't get this. What does this girl have to do with Rick?" the place where this has happened… "What really happened in those woods? …" she asks herself quietly.

"I don't know, Kate. But if evidence really does tell the story, you should ask yourself where is Analíah. She probably holds the answer to this mystery."

"Yes, the police tried to find her for years, with no clue," Beckett notes.

"But Honey, you have a clue!" Lanie shakes her, "You have THIS!" she waves the scarf, "We a finding regarding the child disappearance. We _know_ she lived to her teens! Kate, we just opened one hell of a Pandora box, here."

Yes.

Question remains, is the world's greatest secret about to come out of it, a second time, as well?

* * *

><p><span><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong>

**"He gave her his word. He promised Anal****í****ah to never forget. Then someone comes and tells him he chose oblivion, instead…**

**He **_**really is**_** the lowest form of life ever created."**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N- **** Are you ready to crack this case wide open? Because in the next couple of chapters we're going to find out what's really going on.**

**I'd like to again thank you for sticking with me. Please leave reviews, tell me what you think, and how can I improve myself, it's important to me.**

**Here's part 1 of the 5****th**** chappie. All mistakes are mine, as usual, and I'm working on fixing them:)**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Equation With One Variable:<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 (Part 1):<strong>

February 25th, 1983, Deep in Hollander's woods

The young girl stares at her plate, frozen. Breathing deeply, panting, she doesn't dare looking straight to his eyes.

"Eat," she can feel his breath, a stench of cigarettes and alcohol clouding her senses, but she refuses to move.

Her slim body is bent, curled next to the wooden table, the carved chair's splinters pricking her rear, though she doesn't make a sound.

Her lips pursed, she dares to take a peek at her captor, her eyes somewhat hidden behind her disheveled hair, and that one glance is enough to cause chills to run down her scarred back.

He leans softly to look at her better, whispering, "If you don't eat now, you won't eat at all, child. And people would notice if a thing of beauty, such as yourself, is starved," he pushes the plate towards her, "Eat." He commands.

With a sudden courageous spirit, a burst of protest and anger, she spits at the table, discarding the plate and food offered further away.

"No."

A soft hum is the answer, "Very well," the captor says. "Let you all know," he addresses the others, "your little…_friend_… chose not to have her soup tonight, and as much as it pains me, you're all to go to bed without your dinner, as she sets example to all of you."

Grunts and whines are heard around her, but she stares straight ahead, fists clenching at her sides. She hates him, she hates him, she hates him.

Hungry tummies are not unheard of in this place, but she doesn't want anyone else to stay hungry, because of her.

Hearing dishes being taken and others small humans leaving the tiny room, she feels a presence next to her, though not of her source of fear, who's probably excused himself.

This presence speaks of comfort, of peace.

She turns aside, and feels a tiny hand on her face. A warm smile.

"You have dirt in your hair," a hoarse voice says quietly.

She offers a tiny smile back, when facing her good friend, one of the few in this place that honestly and actually likes her.

"You're hungry."

He shrugs, and passes a hand through his honey-brown, now messy hair. His blue eyes sad, but still hopeful, "I don't care," he bravely says, "I sneaked into the other kitchen today…" he whispers, eyes suddenly sparkle with pride.

She's shocked, "why?" the question hangs in the air.

Digging his hand in his pocket, he pulls out a piece of bread, and used cream. With his other hand, he pulls out a handful of caramel sweets.

"For you…" he says quietly, almost blushing.

She takes the precious delights from him, gawking. Seems to understand her, he offers another shrug, "You need them more than I do."

Her smile broadens further. "Thank you…" she shakes her head with gratitude, softly licking the cream.

He watches her tensely, then after a few seconds, dares to feebly ask-

"Analíah?"

"Mhmm?" her attention is on him again.

"When will they let us go home?" he blinks, curious and more than a little sad.

She knows her doesn't need special handling, and from him there is no point of hiding the truth, "They're not going to let us go," she tiredly says, "we just have to do what they want, and we'll be ok."

Gulping, he nods, understanding.

"C'mere," she says, reaching to grab his small arm in hers, wrapping him in a hug.

He lets himself sink into her warmth. She's like a big sister, the only one to take care of him now.

If they ever escape this dark place, they escape together.

* * *

><p><span>NOW:<span>

Victoria gates' face is a mask of determination, mixed with bewilderment- "You want to tell me, Detective," he posture stable, one hand on her knee, the other on her office's chair, "That this murder is related to the Analíah Vasquez case?!" she blinks repeatedly, still not sure how to handle the bomb-shell.

To be honest, Beckett is not so sure of her next step, either. Not to mention, her long awaiting conversation with Castle. Takes what it takes, they're going to have a long conversation, hopefully soon enough, about all of this.

Speaking slowly, perspective is the key-word here. "Fingerprints of the missing girl were discovered on the scarf our victim was wearing," she says, "We don't know how she fits into any of this….to be honest…"

Behind her, Castle lowers his gaze, uncharacteristically quiet, which doesn't escape his fiancé. Gates is all cut to the chase, though, "and who's the owner of this scarf?" she demands.

"We're…. not entirely sure," Beckett says.

"But…"

"But… based on the shape and form of the fabric, and the dust traces and prints found on it… Lanie believes it belonged to Analíah, at some point." Explaining further, she continues, "DNA and skin tissues support her theory."

Gates is obviously astounded, but attempt to stay focused, "Is there anything to indicated a connection between Wilkinson's murder and Victoria?" she wants to make sure.

"Not at this point, Sir." Beckett shakes her head. "Only link between them that we know of, is Franco Carlos."

"Who we don't believe is behind this."

Tsking quietly, Beckett answers, "We know he had motive and opportunity, but we have nothing rock solid, we had to let him go," she recalls the events of earlier today, he was given the "all clear" out of lack of concrete evidence, but the "don't leave town" speech wasn't spared from him. "As for the Victoria Santos murder, we know he couldn't possibly do it, he was down in the cell."

Gates shakes her head, "So if we eliminated the most logical possibility, you mind and tell me where do we stand now, detective?" her cynical tone is back again.

Nodding, Beckett says, "Franco Carlos did offer some useful information. Wilkinson had an apartment in Queens, Ryan and Espo are checking it as we speak, maybe we'll find something useful there."

"Fine. Go take care of it, Detective."

"Yes, Sir," she says, "Let's go, Castle."

As they're about to leave the room, Gates calls, "Beckett."

"Yes, Sir?"

Taking a deep breath, she says, "This state's best men tried to find that little girl, and came up with nothing," her dark eyes are determined, as she says, "And we finally have an opportunity of getting some answers. _Find me_ Analíah Vasquez." That's not a request, "She's somehow connected to this, and I want to know how, and why. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal, Sir," she says, finally existing the room.

Behind her, Castle's features darken.

* * *

><p>Laptops, clothes, and personal trash welcome them as soon as Ryan and Esposito raid the Victim's second apartment.<p>

The walls painted black, the place stinks of bleach and alcohol, newspapers and DVDs thrown about in the apartment.

"Try and find a second cellphone, or something to connect him with our second vic," Esposito tells his partner, who shakes his head with agreement, "That'll be extremely useful."

With a snort, Ryan notes, "I've never seen so much junk tossed in one place, it's almost like…-"

…"Sssh!" Esposito shushes him, "Bro, you hear that?"

Ryan listens carefully, and sure enough, he hears something…soft, repeated sound. Thump. Thump. Thump..

"It's like….tapping, or something," Kevin says, "It's coming from the…basement? What is that?!" he blinks.

"Dunno," Espo shrugs, "But we should check it out, C'mon," they leave the main room, to go downstairs.

It's dark and moldy, and they can barely refrain from stepping over themselves, Esposito searches for a light-switch nearby.

As soon as he finds it, and the light's on, he almost wishes it was dark again.

There, in-front of them, is a big wall, covered with newspaper articles. Mostly from the 80's. Esposito and Ryan take precious seconds to quickly examine them.

**"Jiji's still unaccounted for, parents offer reward**," one title says, joined by a black-and-white photo of a little girl, smiling at the camera, maybe 5 or 6 years old.

"**Xander, the 5****th**** February child, still missing**," another title reads, with a photo of a young boy with curly hair beneath the headline.

"**Have you seen Tessa?**" another title asks.

"**Abducted from synagogue, Shira's teddy-bear awaits her in bed**." Another faded headline says.

"**Is Brady Number 7? Search for missing boy expanded**."

"What is that?" Ryan asks, puzzled, and Esposito shares his confusion. But that's not what silences them both in shock.

It's the sight welcoming them. Beneath the too-many to count articles hanged on the wall, there sits a young woman, her legs and arms tied, unshed tears flooding her eyes, her head banding the wall, again and again.

When noticing them, a slight, hoarse plea escapes her mouth, "Please…" she begs, "Help me! Please!"

* * *

><p><strong>TBC...<strong>

****I'd like to hear your speculation. What do you think is going on? No worries, the mystery will soon solve itself:)****


	7. Part 2

**A/N- ****So here is the second part. Don't worry, the Casketty goodness will return as soon as the fog clears a bit.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Equation With One Variable:<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 (Part 2):<strong>

* * *

><p>"Got your text," Castle and Beckett burst into the observation room, "Is that her?" Beckett gazes at the girl seated next to the table, in the interrogation room.<p>

Ryan shakes his head, "Her name is Veronica Dougles, 18," he lets on, "She was found in Wilkinson's place, tied up in the basement." A deep sigh, "was held captive for what seems to be several days."

Beckett blinks, her eyes travel over the young girl. Her green eyes deep and hollow, brown hair messy, she rocks back and forth slowly, like deep in trance.

"She seems in shock," Castle comments hesitantly.

Beckett agrees. But it won't keep her for getting some answers.

Her head hurts from data-overload. Confusion. It's nothing and everything and she needs to make sense of all that.

Wilkinson. Victoria. Rick. Analíah. Hollander's woods. Frederick Heigs. Absence. Memory loss…

Somehow, all of the above are connected. She just needs to figure out how.

Maybe young Veronica and help her with that.

"Alright," she says, "I'm going in."

* * *

><p>"I'm glad you're ok, Veronica," Beckett starts, softly, as she sits in-front of the young girl, "I know this is hard, but I need you to answer some questions before I let you out, ok?"<p>

Veronica's bottom lip quivers pitifully, but she doesn't sob, refuses to cry. A slight nod is her response. Beckett smiles, and sees it as something positive. Flipping open her pad, she starts her questioning.

"How long have you been kept in that basement?"

Veronica chews her lips, with a hand scratches her scalp, "F…five days, I think," she answers, voice shaking.

"Were you forced into that apartment?" The detective continues with a motherly like tone.

Veronica shakes her head, "No, I…" she clears her throat, "I wasn't forced there… I couldn't… couldn't leave.."

Blinking, Beckett leaves the pad aside, "Tell me what happened."

Veronica hesitates, "Will you…" she asks, "protect me?"

"We will do whatever it takes to punish those who harmed you, but we can do that only if you help us, ok? You need to tell us what you know."

After a pause, Veronica seems to agree, as she starts her story, "I… I met some guys in a college party…" she says, "I hang out with some friends and we met them…" sniffing, she wipes her nose with her sleeve, "they seemed cute, the blonde one especially, so did his roommates, my friend tried to hook us up… It was all cool at the beginning, but…"

"But…"

"But they were into something weird. I knew that. I wasn't blind. When I went to breaks things off with that group, they suddenly," she pauses, "attacked me… in their apartment. They trapped me in the basement with two other girls, I realized what I've gotten myself into… they wanted to sale us!" her eyes widen in distress, "Like prostitutes of the cheapest kind!" another sniff, "I cried and screamed, but in that basement nobody heard, and they hardly gave us any food or water…"

Beckett's in deep thought. The other apartment. Franco Carlos accused Wilkinson of advocating women trafficking, can it be…

Setting a photo of Aaron Wilkinson on the table, she looks deeply into her eyes, "Is that the man that trapped you in the basement?"

Half a glance is all that Veronica needs, "Yes," she said, "He and his friends. Room-mates."

"Do you remember their names?" Beckett asks.

A nod. "Yes," Veronica whispers, "The young one is Jason. Black hair, Dark eyes. The old guy…. His name's Frederick. Frederick Heigs."

_Bingo._

The ducks starting to line in a raw, she has the feeling she'll know the answer to her next question, but she asks anyway. "The other girl, the one they trapped in the basement, did you talk to her, did she give you her name?"

"Yes," Veronica says, "She was there with me for a couple of days, then they took her, Jason and Frederick. Her name's Victoria."

Behind the glass, Esposito and Castle exchange looks, "Well I'll be damned," Esposito gasps, "So _that's_ our connection?"

"Which still doesn't explain much, even if it is." Ryan notes, "If indeed Carlos was right, and it was all about selling girls as prostitutes, who the hell killed _him_?"

"His partners in crime?" Castle dares to guess, "Delivering girls is probably well paid, maybe he didn't want to share?"

"Mhmmm," Ryan mumbles, "Could be, but we have no idea where Jason or Frederick are, we called an APB on them, but they're gone."

"Well, nothing says guilty more than partners who suddenly bail," Castle grunts.

Esposito is still unconvinced, "That's nice and all, but there's something we're missing here."

"Oh?" Ryan asks, "What's that?"

"Analíah Valasquez." Esposito points out the obvious, "Victoria was found wearing her clothes. In a middle of a goddamn forest. You wanna tell me that's just a coincidence? I don't buy it. Something else is going in here.

Castle starts to shift uncomfortably, but says nothing.

Back in the interrogation room, Beckett still questions the girl, "My team found a set of articles," Beckett says, "Hanged on the wall above you… do you know why they took interest in those children?"

Veronica pauses, her eyes fearful, "They…" she starts, "They called them 'The February children'." She softly says, "Frederick…" her eyes fill with tears again, "He and his brother… years ago…"

Beckett feels like a ton of bricks falls on her head suddenly.

"It was the 80's…. they'd…. take them, those children…" Veronica looks aside, "From their houses… their schools…. Their playgrounds… to use them, use them as tools…" she pauses.

Beckett suddenly feels cold.

5 year old Xander was taken from his preschool. Shira Cohen…kidnapped from a synagogue. Nicholas Charleston, abducted from his own house. Young Jade disappeared from a hotel…

"Frederick told us what he did then. He was afraid of nothing. He wanted to raise the opportunity, to start transferring hookers. He told us he never did so directly. It was all through his brother, older brother, at the time… kept those articles as trophies." Veronica keeps telling, "Said our destiny will be similar to theirs…. It was a well planned operation…" her hands cover her face in shame.

In the interrogation room, two male detectives and one author stand shocked, "Dude, is this really happening?" Ryan asks, "Can it be that this guy took those kids back then?"

"Man, I don't know," Esposito says, his eyes wide, "But if that's the case…. I…. I'm speechless, Bro."

Castle, on his part, starts sweating, mind blurry, feels dizzy. It's all starts surfacing.

Beckett has something she wants to make clear, though, "Vero, Victoria. Do you know where they took her?"

Pursing her lips, Veronica admits, "Probably to the same place they took the others, too," she shrugs, tearfully, "Hollander's woods."

* * *

><p>Leaving the room, Beckett storms out, into the observation room. Her face stern, uncompromised, she's face to face with Castle, "We have to talk," she's not asking, "And we have to talk NOW."<p>

Inhaling deeply, "We're in a middle of a case…" he lowers his head, trying to reason with…

"Like hell we are!" Beckett calls, surprising all of them with her half-scream, herself included, "Rick, I tried to give you time, to give you space, but this is just too much! We're too deep in this! You have to tell me what's going on, _NOW_!" her glance reminds him of the uncompromised look she gave him, the night before confronting Maddox, the fire, the finality of her tone.

"Eh, guys?" Ryan asks, "Care to fill us in?"

"I don't know what you're talking abou…"

"Yes, you do know!" she says, Esposito exhales, frustrated as he doesn't understand, "You were a boy, Rick, I get that…" Beckett says, her gaze softening, "But two people are dead, and maybe you saw something, maybe… I don't know, but you were there… Rick, TELL US."

Ignoring the two detectives behind them, Beckett's eyes are on Castle only, and suddenly, a sight that makes her blood freeze in her veins, appears in front.

Sight of tears, of pain, of ever presence _fear _in her fiance's face, and it's so foreign on him, she wishes to hold and comfort him.

But at the same times, she needs the truth. No further evading, no further lies.

_Tell us._

"You…you won't… understand," he looks at her, pleading, "and how could you possibly…. I don't understand it myself…." He shakes his head, deep in denial.

Only then she realizes how mistaken she was…. For years.

Foolish womanizing. Fun and book parties. Shallow sex with actresses. All of this, to cover something probably so horrible, this was the only defense-mechanism he succeeded creating.

But he healed her injuries, so beautifully and gracefully. Now she wishes to heal his.

"Rick…" she whispers, "What happened?"

He lowers his gaze, again.

* * *

><p>"It was an afternoon hour," he finally starts, the four of them sitting in the break-room, the sheds hide them in their small private conversation.<p>

"I was with my mother, she took us to this… this cabin, in Hollander's woods. Just the two of us, to… to take some time off." He glances straight ahead, like trying to take some distance from this memory.

"Like every day, I ran outside to play in the woods," with a deep breath, he continues, "But… I fell and hurt my leg. I couldn't move. It was cold and soon darkness covered the sky, so I stayed there, unmoving, till I fell asleep."

They all listen carefully, "When I woke up, I soon realized I wasn't with my mother, in my room. I was… someplace dark. A wooden cabin, in the deeper parts of the forest, somewhere tourists and travelers don't cover."

Scratching his cheek, Castle continues, "Fairly quickly I realized I wasn't the only boy in that place. A few more there were. All mapped. Categorized. All…afraid." His gaze is blank.

"When I asked where I was, or how I could go home… I was either ignored, or pushed. Little I knew that nothing was farer than home… That's when I came across with…him."

"The man in charge?" Beckett asks.

Castle nods, "His name was Cain, suiting enough. I don't even know if that was his real name. Probably a nick he picked for himself, to terrorize us. He and his brother, which I didn't know. That what they'll do…" he turns to look at his team, "Snatch children, to use them, as many as possible…"

"What did they want with so many kids?" Esposito blinks.

Castle pauses and then, "Each one had a specific mission. The older ones were smugglers; they'll be dropped in forsaken small towns to do whatever job they were ordered to," further explaining, "In that time, no satellite or internet, no smartphones, it was easier to…blend yourself in… The young ones were carriers, and the little ones were beggars. Each knew their role in this….sick play. They kept us hidden deep in the woods, a sealed truck would come for us every morning, sometimes to bring us to different places…sometimes…for food."

Taking it in, Beckett is hypnotized by this story. "How… how many of you were there?" she asks.

"Eleven." Castle admits, "Eleven remained at the time I…. left that place."

"Do you remember their names?" Ryan asks softly.

Eyes twitching, forehead wrinkling, Castle recalls in pain, "The oldest one…." He says slowly, "Was Nicholas… he was 14 at the time. He used to be rebellious, tried to escape multiple times… but they… they broke his spirit pretty fast…" Ryan shudders.

"The prettiest one…was definitely Shira." Castle smiles sadly, "An only child, came from an orthodox Jewish home. At first she lost a lot of weight, because she refused to eat the food given to her, we saw how her beautiful figure fades away…"

"The youngest boy was Xander…" Castle recalls, "And there were Brady… and Jade…" he keeps pronouncing their names, as Beckett, dumbfounded, recalls the names from the list she learned by heart, at the academy. Names on the list Castle personally knew.

"There was…. Analíah…" he finally admits, and they all simultaneously gasp, "of course, I didn't know who she was back then. She was kidnapped at age 4, they practically raised her, she was bitter, but never really rebellious. And she loved us…" he forces down the lump in this throat, "she loved us all."

Esposito listens, then asks, "Any other names you recall?"

Clearing his throat, he continues, "Another boy was Edward. I think he was 9. James was 8. And the youngest…. They were twins. 6 year olds."

"What were their names?"

"The older twin… her name was Catelyn," Castle recalls a small beggar, standing in a tiny deserted square, dressed in dirty cloths, covered in filth, "for authenticity", "and the younger twin.." Castle sees her so vividly in his mind, now, a hesitant child with so much love and fear in her eyes, like two almonds bright, her blonde hair like silk…. "Was Jordan."

Beckett's eyes widen.

She recalls one early morning…

_'14 utterances… and the name was Jordan… you said it over and over again…. Who's Jordan?...' _

"You said her name…" Beckett whispers, "In your sleep."

_'I got nothing to hide…. There's just nothing to tell…'_

"I had to tell you something…" he shrugs, ashamed, "And the work-cheat was something I could live with, but this… what they did to us…. To _her_… couldn't be described in words."

It takes a moment for what he just revealed to truly sink in. Castle… her Rick... Was a February Child.

* * *

><p><strong>MORE TO COME SOON...<strong>


	8. Part 3

**A/N- ****As always, I thank and appreciate those who left their thoughts. I will post a tag to this story as well, so check it out if you'd like.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Equation With One Variable:<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 (Part 3):<strong>

* * *

><p><span>February 18th, 1983, Deep in Hollander's woods, darkness:<span>

He bursts through the door, a malicious grin splatters on his face cruelly; holding a small fractured boy who seems somewhat hurt, he drags him inside.

As soon as he does, a group of three children- Brady, Nicholas and Jonathan, cry out in fear and abrupt determination, Nicholas tries to crash into his body in an attempt to flee.

With his left arm, Cain throws him off, preventing him from reaching the door, little Jonathan falls on the floor seconds later, and Xander is blocked as well.

"Oh, no you don't!" he calls, kicking the door shut with one leg, holding a limp body with one strong arm. He snorts, "You fools!" his anger now directs at Nicholas, "You brat, you'll never escape, you hear me? NEVER!" Nicholas, still on the floor, struggles himself up, his arm failing him. His face filled with contempt, he says nothing more to Cain, now.

Behind him, Caitlyn tries to hide under the wooden table, And behind her, Shira takes in the scene quietly.

Another snort, Cain takes joy on their agony, their despair fuels him, and then-

"_Anal__í__ah_!" he sneers, his voice a thunder that shakes the children's helpless bodies, "Come here!"

She appears behind one of the hallways, her face blank, as always.

Cain smiles at his most useful little servant, then drops the young boy's unconscious body on the floor with a thud, a small hiss of pain erupts from him.

Analíah doesn't offer him any attention, her glare never leaves Cain, as she learned long ago never to let her guard down around him.

He looks deeply into her eyes, but it's obvious his words refer to all of them, "Children," he says, his eyes drop to the floor for a split second, "I'd like you to meet Richard, he's your new _friend_…" Cain snickers, "He's going to be given his first mission soon…aren't we all just_ lucky to have him_?"

Under the table, Caitlyn squeaks in fear, David, the latest 'member' to join, sticks his chin up in defiance, and Allison, who stands behind him, exchanges looks with Nicholas, who shakes his head.

He doesn't like new members. The cabin is small enough, and any more children to join this dark place mean fights over beds and food, which they already lack.

Looking at the sickly boy tossed on the floor, unmoving, he wonders if this one will be a weakling, or a strong one, like him and Jade.

They planned a possible escape for days now, and a strong boy is something they can use. However, a strong one can challenge his leadership over the group, which can also prove itself dangerous.

Analíah's gaze drifts and she's now looking at the fainted boy, her new responsibility. She already knows what's expected of her.

"Take this one to the room, you," Cain orders, and he then turns to Nicholas, "I expect you to help her," he seethes, "Caused me enough headache for a _week_! Now move!"

Wordlessly, Analíah and Nicholas approach the new-arrival, and with effort, they grasp his shoulders and legs, clumsily carry him to the sided room, where Analíah will treat his injured ankle.

Cain takes a deep breath, then whispers, "you…"

With long steps, he slowly approaches his next target, children retreat from his passage like the red-sea surrendering to Moses; he stands toll and threatening, then leans to have a better look at the small blonde girl in-front.

"Jordan," his silky voice ominous, "Have you been a good girl, Jordan?"

The little girl vibrates uncontrollably, bottom lip quivering. From under the table, her twin sister hopes whatever she did wasn't that bad, not enough to bring forth Cain's wrath.

The girl blinks, twice, panting.

"Jiji," he tilts his head, clicking his tongue, like a disappointed parent catching his child doing something inappropriate, "What is the worst crime a child can ever commit in our family, baby-Jordan?" he blinks, faking innocence.

Sniffing, Jordan lifts her left arm in a horizontal manner, elbow sticking out. With her right hand, she drags two fingers on top of her left.

Being mute, that's her best answer, and Cain understands, and nods, "Stealing, that's correct." he says, "We don't appreciate small thieves in here. What happens to those who steal, Jordan?"

With two fingers, she points forward, then redirects both fingers of her right hand downward, "Yes," Cain is pleased with this answer, as well, "They get sent to hell."

A tiny gasp is heard somewhere behind them.

"Is hell a nice place, Jordan?" Cain asks patiently.

The child shakes her head 'No'.

"And you don't want to be sent there for being a little thief, do you?"

Another headshake.

Cain's eyes narrow, "like a little mouse, you sneaked into the kitchen to steal last night, didn't you?" he says, "empty your pockets."

With shaking hands, the girl pulls the 'loot' out of her ragged clothes.

Cookies.

Dry honey-buttered cookies, with a trace of chocolate fragments.

Seen that, Cain reverts to his previous position, tall and detached, then clucks his tongue, "Tsk, Tsk…" he shakes his head, "Those cookies were a small tribute to Analíah," Cain purses his lips, and Jordan's eyes widen with regret and shame.

The children love Analíah, the thirteen year old, the oldest member. Any sadness to her inflects on them, too, "She took care of our little problem nicely last week, she deserved the tiny reward.."

The little 'problem' was Jade getting caught pick pocketing. Analíah's quick instincts saved both him and David a lot of trouble, "now, thanks to your greedy and demonic habits, not only Analíah will have to deal with the consequences, but so will your other _pals_," the last part comes as a snarl. He grabs Jordan's one arm at once, then calls to the others, "No bread with your meals tonight," he sentences, "to either of you. And thank your good luck that's the only punishment this evening. Next one to steal, will walk on one leg from now on!" and with Jordan still held tightly in his grasp, he storms out of the room.

Good thing about Jordan being punished instead of anyone else, you don't have to deal with the screams.

* * *

><p>"…Not that anyone could hear us, anyway," Castle's melancholic voice continues, and the three detectives are still highly attentive, "In the middle of the forest, but…" he shakes his head, "It was easier for him to pick on the young ones, because they were small and defenseless. Especially Jordan."<p>

"What happened when you woke up?" Beckett's soft voice asks.

Castle offers a shrug, "At first, I didn't realize what's going on… I tried to escape, just this one time, and of course, I paid for it… repeatedly. Physically…" he feels Beckett tenses, "my only beacon was Analíah.."

* * *

><p>…"Are you ok, Rick?" Stephanie asks, her dirty hat covering her red braids.<p>

He softly grunts in pain, his leg killing him softly, after Frederick's very painful punishment, "I'm fine…" he stutters. Really, he is. The numbness turned into unbearable pain, so…that's better.

"You sure you didn't break anything?" she drags the 'sure' part, long and emphasized, and when he nods, she spits, "too bad!"

At Analíah's scolding look, she offers a tiny 'humph', then explains, "He tried to escape! Because of him, we're locked here for two days!"

Stephanie was one of the only who saw "no mission" day as worse than the physical labor. She hated the cabin.

Analíah no longer bothers to explain that it's the weather keeping her here, not the new boy. "Just go," she says, "you stink, and there's dirt under your nails, would get you to lose coins," she sinks a dusted fabric in the water-basin, softly saying "Frederick won't love that.."

With one last challenging 'humph', she leaves the room dramatically.

"And don't come back," Richard silently says through the pain.

Shaking her head, Analíah sits next to him on the bed, "She's ok, once you get to know her," the girl puts the wet-cold fabric on his leg, covering his bruises. The boy hisses.

"She's vicious," he shuts his eyes tightly, breathes through his nose.

With another head-shake, she scratches her nose, then pulls something out of her back-pocket, "Here," she says, "take this."

A delicious smell envelops him, and his eyes widen at the delicious treat. A cheese-bun. All for him.

"I hid it from Cain," Analíah says, "got it from one of the deliveries."

Taking it, Richard starts chewing on the bun like a starved beast, and it's soon lost in his throat; "Thanks," he offers, almost sheepishly.

Analíah smiles.

His head falls back to the pillow, he breathes deep. Noticing it, Analíah says, "You're tired, Richard. Try and get some sleep."

Closing his eyes, he lets her soft voice guide him to restless slumber, "just sleep…"

* * *

><p>"Analíah was the only one I trusted in this place," Castle says, "all the rest were inmates, not friends. They just shared the same space with me. Few of them I tolerated…" he continues, "Shira, Jade and Blake, they were my companions, but the only one I trusted to protect me, only life I cared for, was Analíah.."<p>

"We heard stories, about kids who've tried to escape that cabin, and not just the cabin, but the captivity in general. Two tried to run while beggaring, one boy, his name was Sean, he was the oldest and their official leader at starts, he tried to physically challenge one of the men responsible for drug-transferring. Their fate was left 'unknown', for the lack of a better word."

"Did they succeed fleeing?" Ryan asks.

"Depends who you'd ask," Castle says, "Nicholas tried to encourage us to rebel, in stories of the boys being free, but…"

"But?"

"But every time someone pronounced their names, Frederick will get this nostalgic look, and Analíah will turn paler than a wall. She tried to convince us multiple times to not do anything foolish. It was only thanks to her that our punishments weren't even worse than the known abuse."

"Then… what changed? How did you escape them?"

Licking his lips, Castle continues, "It wasn't easy… it took some time, a perfect planning. Nicholas was determined to escape, as it was the third year 'anniversary' with them, and I could sense something changing in Analíah, as well. Turning 14, she couldn't ignore the call of nature, her teenage hormones calling her to rebel… we could see her slowly losing it… it wasn't that hard when the mature children were the ones in charge, but…"

"But?"

"We had to wait for the perfect time…" he says, "We knew the old truck was to arrive, and that at that day, Caitlyn, Jonathan, and Xander and Stephanie were to be shipped to Milcot, the small town 70 kilometers from the woods. They were the youngest, and Jonathan came from Milcot, he knew the place like the back of his hand… this was our luck…

"Not having to worry about the little ones, we had a great advantage; they never took us more three at a time, never to a place one of us came from… The old truck arriving just added better luck to our escape plan…"

"Why is that?" Esposito asks.

"The Fence," Castle replies, "at night it got electrified, to prevent any escape attempts," he pauses for a breath, "but when the truck came, and a partner of theirs entered the warehouse, they had to shut it off, and that night, the truck was to arrive…"

"Without fear of being electrocuted, or the smallest kids to slow us down, Nicholas urged us to bring that fence down. We knew it was risky… chances are we would injure ourselves pretty bad…but we desired freedom so badly, we were willing to risk it…"

Castle's voice turns shaky, so do his hands, "but we knew it would make an awful lot of noise… a group of eight sure would… but that was worth it."

Castle recalls that night vividly. Small children sneaking behind the cabin, the cruel dark woods ahead, the unknown awaits them…

"We were to split to threes, the two remaining were Jade and Blake, Shira, Nicholas and David were the other group, leaving Analíah, Jordan and myself the lasts to pass through…"

"The fence collapsing, made the unpleasant noise we all feared," Castle says, his voice turning hoarse, stuttered, "we sneaked out in a hurry, Nicholas urging us forward… and then, I saw the lights flick on…"

Beckett doesn't dare to interrupt, "I realized we were blown, so did Analíah…" he softly nods, "being the last group, she fiercely pulled my through the fence-holes, Jordan soon after…

We started running, but Jordan's small feet weren't fast enough…" his eyes watering, Beckett gasps as she realize what he's about to expose, Ryan and Esposito exchange painful looks, Esposito's sorrow mixed with obvious anger, Ryan, a father himself, probably imagines what would it feel like had it been Sarah-Grace in Jordan's place.

"I was good distance ahead of Jordan, barefoot…." He says, "I could notice Analíah running ahead of me… the branches hitting my face. Turning back, to make sure he wasn't close to me, I could see him… he was holding a shotgun, beyond furious that we succeeded escaping… but I just kept running…

* * *

><p><em>"…A young boy is running through the open, dark forestry, his injured, barefoot legs burn from the open bruises and cuts, the fire in his lungs is an unbearable inferno, but there is no time for that now. He's well aware of the danger.<em>

_They can't find him. He won't let them. No, they can't._

_The dryness in his throat stings like needles, he's parched, hungry and tired, and all he wants is a warm bed, the comforting presence of his house, and the everlasting hold of his mother's loving arms._

_But no, he can't let his guard down. He knows, chances are, he'll never see his home again, he must keep running… thoughts about home and mother won't get him anywhere._

_He focuses on the here, and now. Another female relaxing voice, tiny, hesitant, but nonetheless affectionate, and that's what keeps him sane._

_He keeps on running._

_And the blood like freezes in his veins, as he turns around in horror, when hearing an ear deafening scream._

_And then… nothing._

_Richard Rogers, 11 years old, stays still for another minute, then turns around, takes off running, completing his flee, his young legs carrying him to the unknown._

_Tears cover his vision, he doesn't dare looking back..."_

* * *

><p>"Though I never heard a shotgun's firing before, I knew the thunder in my chest was the trigger letting lose. And even though Jordan never spoke… I knew it was her scream clouding my senses… It was then when I realized those boys never really escaped… that no-one ever does…"<p>

A lone tear slides down Beckett's cheek, when seeing the haunted look on his face.

"Jordan was dead before her body hit the ground," he says, lip trembling, forehead wrinkled in pain, "She was dead…. _And I could never really let her go_."

* * *

><p><strong>TBC...<strong>


	9. Chapter 5 final part

**A/N**** – Wow, I never guessed so many people would like this story, you guys are awesome! So here's the last part of chapter 5, and we're about to start concluding this story.**

**Please leave your thoughts!**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Equation With One Variable:<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 (last part):<strong>

* * *

><p>By the time Castle finishes his story, they're all speechless and dumbfounded.<p>

Rick leaves the room soon after, needing some fresh air, and Beckett soon follows. Ryan and Esposito are left there alone, with their thought.

"Bro," Esposito says, still a bit shocked, "I mean… seriously?"

"I know," Ryan doesn't need his partner to say anything else, as their thoughts are in synch, "I mean…I figured he was holding something back, he was all jumpy with this case, but _man_…"

"I mean, it's Castle!" Esposito breathes, the name like supposed to be enough.

They both know the stories of the Academy… the unexplainable mysterious disappearance of 4 year old Analíah Vasquez, decades ago… the February children, all suddenly gone… Ryan wants to head-palm himself… with all the crazy and creepy suspicions some of his mates had in the academy, some of them thought of those kids as ghosts, the less than tactful even hinted that those cases were made up to make cops handle those kind of things better….

Oh, _God_.

_Castle_ was a _February child_.

This is _insane_.

"I just," Esposito brushes past him towards the door, "you saw him, Bro. I wish there was something we could do to help him…"

Spiritually fueled now, Ryan exits the room, signing for Esposito to accompany him to their desks, "There is. We were focused so much on Veronica, we didn't bother canvassing the area once we left,"he says, referring to the other apartment. Reaching for his belt, he continues, "I'm positive we can find something to hint on those guys' location."

Esposito nods, "Let's go," he says.

* * *

><p>Lanie Parish is in her lab, the small microscope and the sided lamp her only companionship. That's…besides the dead people, of course.<p>

Once Perlmutter became too much to handle with, for one shift, she sent him off to buy some coffee, and not the usual crap from the morgue, but a real classic one.

And a sandwich, perhaps, because her stomach began making those unlady-like grumbling noises she won't feel comfortable with people hearing

Leaving one table, she wasn't sure there was anything left to do with Victoria, but she wanted to cover all bases. Soon enough her body's to be shipped back to her parents in Maine, when they'll have to deal with their own pain of knowing the cause for their daughter's death, and the horrible destiny that probably awaited her in case she survived.

Wilkinson was a different issue. The main Lab some of the materials were sent to was supposed to send back their findings today, and Lanie hoped for a smoking gun, finally something to help them all shut this case close.

As on cue, the Fax machine beeps, "Oh, finally," Lanie sighs, hurrying to the other side of the room, "Let's see what… well, that's odd."

A new set of fingerprints was found on Wilkinson, and Lanie takes the time to…

"Odd indeed," she frowns, reaching for a different folder on the other side of the table.

It's then when her eyes widen in shock and her face pales, "Oh… _my God_."

* * *

><p>After reveling the story to his partners and fiancé, there is no point, really, of not telling his mother what happened that day.<p>

So he finally spills everything that haunted him for 30 years, Kate taking the sight from a distance.

Martha sobs silently. She reaches to caress his face and hair, softly mumbles "_My poor child_," over and over again. Kate's heart bursts with emotion as she watches her Rick, so brave and fearless, buries his head in his mother's lap, looking for some comfort, a possible consolation, for her to tell him he's home, again, it was all just a bad dream.

He weeps silently, as well; wishing to see them, all of them, walk through the door. Jordan, so tiny and defenseless, her thin blonde hair flapping carelessly, her silent mouth stretching into a grin.

Shira, with her deep clear eyes, her simple clothes and breathtaking beauty, holding her prayer book in one hand, the other hugs her teddy-bear.

Jonathan, running about freely, laughing, urging him to come and play hide and seek.

Nicholas, brave and strong Nicholas, standing proud and fearless as always, proud that nothing and no-one can hurt him.

Their faces are nothing more than fading images in a memory, yet he can still so freshly remember them… remember them all.

And now… it's start surfacing, all of it. Wilkinson, Victoria. How he wishes he could just erase that chapter from his life, to just fo…

…_"You said you didn't want to remember… we went to great lengths to make sure that you didn't…"_

Whatever happened to him before the wedding… could it possibly be connected to his time in that cabin… in those woods?

He's just… so confused.

But he promised. He gave his word… He promised Analíah to never forget… then someone comes and tells him he chose oblivion, instead.

He really is the lowest form of life ever created.

He survived this, knowing there were those who didn't. How can he make amends?

His walk down awful memory lane ceases once he feels a warm touch on his face, like trying to shed his tears.

Kate.

Beautiful, understanding, loving Kate.

She reaches to take his hand in hers, Martha gives them both an encouraging smile, than leaves them be.

Kate softly takes him to bed, removes his cloths, envelops him to her securing warmth. He trembles, but she cannot care less.

Kisses. Soft strokes. Endless expressions of love. It's all she can give him, and that's enough.

They make love slowly, tenderly, and she becomes his bride, merciful nurse, best healer of wounds.

When the phone rings, long minutes after, all hell breaks loose.

* * *

><p>They hurry back to the precinct, no further questions ask.<p>

They're surprised to find Lanie waiting for them there, but without further introductions, she stutters, "They sent the results today," she handles Beckett a brown folder, urging her silently to have a good look, "they found evidence on Wilkinson… another set of fingerprints, that matched a set already existing in the system.." Lanie looks somewhat shaken.

Opening the folder, Kate follows the report, but as soon as Castle does as well, his sight becomes blurry, all numbers and words a sensless mix of ink and paper stench.

Oh, God.

"No…"

Before any of them can say anything else, Esposito peeps from behind the office's door, "Yo, Beckett," he gulps, "C'mere, there's something you gotta see."

They enter the room, Tory already awaits them, in front of the big screen, her usual spot, "So," she says, "Esposito and Ryan looked for more evidence from the apartment in Queens, and they succeeded getting their hands on the security camera…"

"Yeah, apparently, Wilkinson went to check out on Veronica, if she's still keeping quiet in that basement… It was about two hours before his death… the time stamp wasn't messed with, so this video is more than authentic…" he presses the control remote, and a faded image, black and white, appears.

A picture of the condos and apartments, the hallway and parts of the parking-lot. At first they see nothing, but then… an image appears, a figure.

"That's… definitely a person."

Yes, indeed a person, a woman, it seems. Her walk slow, she limps on her right leg, her posture a bit bent, and as she walks straight into the now familiar condo, the camera catches her in all her glory.

Castle feels like he's about to collapse.

He'd recognize that face anywhere. The soft cheakbones, the dark hair, the haunted eyes. His lips pursed, he cannot help but emit, "I recognize her."

Behind him, Lanie softly says, "traces of faded fingerprints were found on Wilkinson's chest, the main lab sent us the information…"

Castle freezes.

"Around the neck and chest of the Victim…"

His gaze are on the paused video ahead.

"They believe the killer may have tried to clean the evidence, but were unsuccessful… fingerprints belong to a woman, in her fifties… named Leah Rochester."

Beckett nods, "so…?"

"The weird part…" Lanie's gaze landed on Castle, "fingerprints also match another set already existing in our system. Fingerprints belonging to a young girl… named Analíah Vasquez."

It's like a thunder lightning him, and he can't say anything, he can't speak, he can't move… he can't breathe.

"It seems like Analíah survived the escape… and came back for revenge," he pays no attention to which person the voice belongs, because he can recognize her… he always could… "She's our killer."

* * *

><p><span><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong>

**"It was a moment of epiphany… They've had it all wrong. They ignored the most random and obvious thing.**

**How could he overlook this simple truth?"**


	10. Chapter 6 Part 1

**Equation With One Variable:**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 6 (part 1):<strong>

* * *

><p>Castle's face is a mask of callousness, saying nothing more as he steps out of the room heavily. Beckett mumbles a small "Excuse me boys," then exists after him.<p>

She finds him seating on his chair, clicking his phone, obviously not interested in hearing anything less regarding the issue.

She takes her seat next to him, and softly tries to reach her beloved, "Castle…" she says softly, "I think we should…"

"You've got it all wrong," he cuts her, eyes still focused on his cell-phone.

"Castle, I don't…." his clicking becomes disturbing, "Rick, can you please put that down?" she reaches her hand to snatch the device out of his hand, but there is really no need, as he understand and puts the small metal on the table.

Analíah has nothing to do with this," he says decisively, his eyes hard and chin raised challengingly, "There must be an explanation for this.""

Beckett is doubtful. Evidence is clear, more than that, and it makes total sense, but she wishes for castle to see it, too, "Is there?" she asks, and at his raised eyebrow she adds, "I mean… I'm a little lost here, Rick. We've search for this girl for _decades. DECADES, Castle. _And here we find out she's been at a murder scene of someone she held grudge for, her prints on his body… I mean, where was she all this time, why hasn't she come forward to say anything?"

"Maybe she was lost," Castle says, forehead wrinkles in annoyance, "Maybe she was scared… there could be many reasons."

"Yeah, but for 30 years? I mean, I know she was important to you back then, I get that, but…. You have to consider the possibility that she had something to do with this… had it been anyone else, you would have.

Shaking his head repeatedly, Castle repeats, "she's not the one who did this, Kate, I know it."

"Why?" Beckett challenges back, "Because she was a _child_? because it happened so long ago? Castle, people can hold grudge for years, that's…"

"I know that!" he insists, "and more importantly, I know her! She couldn't hurt a fly!" his tone persistent, he holds his grounds.

They just don't understand….

* * *

><p><em>The fists hitting his back, legs and face were burning, humiliating, and with each punch he felt like screaming, but all that came out, thankfully, were tortured grunts and painful hisses.<em>

_"That's for malfunctioning out delivery!" Cain snarls, and a kick hits his stomach, "That's for speaking without permission!" the next to his ankle, "That's for being rude!" his face meets the wrong side of Cain's hand, his eyes burn with suffocated tears and shame._

_Every physical punishment by Cain is a publicity stunt, always to be delivered in-front of the other kids._

_He bets some of them enjoy the show, as he gained the animosity of Nicholas and Brandon by now. Opening one eye, just barely, from his position, collapse helplessly on the floor, he notices them._

_Xander blinks repeatedly, trying to hide behind Shira's long black dusted skirt. She, herself, lowers her gaze, her long, honey-colored hair blocking her vision._

_Jonathan stands in the corner, darkness shedding him, though Richard can imagine him chewing on his pinkie, something he has a tendency doing, when being anxious._

_He gulps the pain and humiliation, suddenly hearing a shriek, and a noise, approaching from the other room._

_Abruptly, something falls on him. But it is not a fist._

_It's something soft and warm. Comforting._

_Trying to turn his head and have a better look, his nose tickles as an accumulation of black hair falls in his cheek._

_The answer soon comes when he hears Cain seethes, "Move, Anal__í__ah."_

_But she, the most blessed of God's human creation, doesn't budge. She covers him with her small body, her fingers touch his hair, her upper body separates his from any further physical torment._

_She's shielding him, he understands with a gasp, and she turns her head towards their jailer and punisher, twisting her lips in protest, "No," she says, courageously, "He's ill and weak, you'll kill him keeping that up."_

_Cain's eyes sparkle with rage, his next fit lifted. He won't have mercy, on either of them… _

_"I said…MOVE."_

_Turning her head from him, she buries it in Rick's middle, ignoring Cain's commands._

_Rick wants to protest, "Don't…" he wants to say, "You don't deserve this…. You always take his wrath on yourself… don't protect me… don't take this for me…"_

_He wants to yell at her, for not thinking of herself first, but he's too weak, his lips barely move._

_Between them, she takes his small hand in hers, and the pain is back, this time on them both._

_It seems like hours pass, till he's finished with them both, two tiny bodies lying in bed, painful and aching._

_He want her to yell at him, to target her anger on him, but in the darkness, she turns her head and asks, simply, _

_"Did he hurt you much, Richard?"_

_He wishes to cry._

_And in that dark room, he does. Cries like a baby. Sniffs on his pain and humiliation and fears._

_And she knows. She understands._

_In that dark room, she lies next to him, and it's like a mockingbird, when he hears her softly singing…_

_"Angels' tears…" she mumbles, soothingly, "Why do the angels cry? Maybe because it's not easy to be an angel…. In such a sad world…."_

_He holds her words, the ceiling enveloping them tenderly._

_"Because when the angels cry in another world…." She sings, "Then in this world… we're all very sad…"_

* * *

><p>Biting her bottom lip, Beckett realizes that Castle won't discuss this any further, and with a sigh, she's about to go back to the task at hand.<p>

Esposito approaches her table, "Yo," he calls, "got an APB, Analíah Vasquez is currently our main suspect," he tosses a folder on Beckett's desk, ignoring Castle's angered look. Beckett exhales, "We located her apartment in Manhattan, named after her Alias, Leah Rochester."

* * *

><p>Beckett's impatient voice echoes in the long hallway, on the second floor of the old building, "Leah Rochester, NYPD, open up!"<p>

Behind her stands her team, Castle's fists Clenched tightly, he can feel the fast approaching migraine.

"_Anal__í__ah!_" Beckett thunders, tired of this crap, "Police! Open the door!"

Deafening silence.

Signing to Ryan and Esposito, the two male detectives kick the door, bursting into the apartment.

The leap forward, and both Castle and Beckett take the scene in silent surprise. Furniture flipped over, photos smashed, books covering the floor…

"Someone's been in here," Beckett mumbles silently.

"And seems like they were looking for something…" Castle adds usefully.

"Clear!" she hears Ryan calls from the bedroom.

"Clear," Esposito parrots, exiting the kitchen.

"Damnit," hisses Beckett, and Castle sighs.

_'Anal__í__ah, where are you_?' He silently asks, _'What did you get yourself into_?'

A cell-phone chimes somewhere, and Ryan digs into his pocket to answer, "Yes, this is Ryan," he says automatically.

His expression changes in an instant, "Wait, _what_?!" he calls, and Beckett and Espo exchange questioning looks, "Are you _sure_? Ok, we're on our way there." He disconnects.

"Please tell we you have something," Beckett says.

"Oh, but we do," Ryan says self-importantly, "Don't know anything about Analíah, but," he shoved his phone back to his pucket, "Guess who payed a visit to our first vic's female friend?" he arches his eyebrows, "Jason".

"He _what_ now?"

"Got a call about a teenage girl attacked in her apartment in Queens, about an hour ago…"

Espo makes a face, "Our pimp attacked Charlie?!" he asks, surprised, "what the hell _for_?"

"I don't know," Ryan shrugs, "But they're both in the hospital right now…" he then continues, "We've got the son of a bitch."

* * *

><p>"Well, that's something you don't see everyday…" Esposito says, twisting one lip.<p>

Their pimp lies in a white bed, practically dead to the world. His eyes wide open, he mumbles incoherently.

His Doctor, Georgia Ligers, shrugs tiredly, "He's been doing that for the past couple of hours," she lets on, "We called you as soon as they checked him in, knowing it was your guy."

Indeed it is. Handcuffed to the bed, he looks like a Zombie. "What the hell happened to him?" Beckett asks, astonished.

"Hit his head pretty harsh," the Doctor says, "Multiple bruises, also," she opens up a file, "We tracked massive amount of Mescaline in his system."

Frowning, Castle asks, "He's been drugged?"

"Yes," The doctor confirms.

"Well, Mescaline is a 'delusion drug', that might explain the…" Ryan stutters, "well, that." He points at the bed.

"Multiple bruises to his scalp, neck, and chest…" The doctor offers mechanically, "also, to both of his wrists. We had to treat an infection in his mouth and gums as well…"

Castle blinks, "mouth… wrists," arching an eyebrow, he tells what Beckett suspects already, "He's been held captive somewhere."

"And we're back to nowhere land," Espo grunts.

Clicking her tongue, Beckett addresses the doctor, "He's been like this since he arrived?" she asks.

"Oh, not at all," the Doctor says, "We had to clean him, this man was kicking and screaming all the way in."

"He was?"

"Yes," the doctor nods "Kept screaming about 'the darkness' and 'the woods'." Castle's face darkens, "he also screamed something that sounded like, "Analiyaa" and "she came for me," kept repeating it, "she came for me."

* * *

><p>"Well, what on earth did you expect me to do?" Charlie puts on her jacket, a bit struggling with the multiple bruises covering her shoulders, "The guy's a total wacko, he attacked me, so I had no choice but defending myself." She rolls her eyes, "God, I hate hospitals."<p>

"Do you mind telling us what happened?" Beckett clears her throat.

Charlie turns around, her mom, Natasha, nodding at her. With a second eye-roll, she huffs, "I was at my place," she says, "minding my own business, you know, when suddenly, out of the blue, this guy, Aaron's roommate, bursts in, starts fisting me and tries to force me out of my own place. So of course I fought back. I saw the news, they were looking for him, for _women trafficking_, of all things?" she blinks, amazed, "Well, I thought, that's just _marvelous_, if there was anything fucked up in this city, be sure Charlie will find her way to get herself involved somehow…" she snorts, "he yelled things which made absolutely no sense…" she adds, shrugging.

"Well, he _was _drugged," Castle says, "so…"

"Yeah, well, I figured that much," Charlie says, shrugging, "I just…. Don't want to ever see him again… cursed be the day I ever met those people," she mumbles.

"Well, don't worry about that, Jason will spent much time in jail for the wrong's he's made, but what interests me is, why was he looking for you?" Beckett asks, puzzled.

"I have no idea," Charlie says, "Look, detective, Aaron was my friend… now I get that he was the wrong type of friend to have, but still, he was… and knowing that, it is not surprising Jason went after me… He told me in his, eh…" she pauses, "deluded state, while he was chocking me, how charming," she adds, "that Wilkinson owed him money, or something, and that for some reason he believed I has it in my possession… maybe he turned his back on them, I don't know. Kept asking me where was Fredrick," she says, "I guess Fredrick disappeared, let him handle the cops knowing, I dunno. What I do know, is that I was lucky. The guy wanted me dead. Thank God the neighbors heard."

Castle thinks deep, "The entire police department is chasing this guy down, yet he has time to make house-calls?" he shakes his head, "Something doesn't smell right," then he adds, "and Analíah's place was trashed, what's up with that?!" he doesn't get it.

"Seems like our pimp was looking for something," Ryan appears from behind, "Beckett, mind if I have a word?"

"Sure," Kate says, leaving the teenager's room, "Charlie, thank you for your cooperation, we'll… keep in touch."

"Yeah, whatever."

Soon after she leaves, Castle follows. That's when he comes face to face with Natasha Tanner, again.

"Mr. Castle, can I have a word?" Charlie's mother asks.

Blinking at the woman, Castle says "Of course," and approaches her.

She's quiet, hesitant, "How does she seem to you?" she asks, "Charlie?"

Half-understanding, he answers, "she seems quite alright," he says, "a bit impatient, but considering she was attacked by a killing woman-trafficker, I get she's a bit edgy."

Smiling, Natasha offers a hand, "You know, she trusts you, Mr. Castle. At least, more than she trusts that Detective of yours," silently, Natasha says, "She doesn't confide in cops."

Castle got the vibe, "I wondered," Natasha Tanner said, "If you could reach her… she surely doesn't trust me, it seems…" another shrug, "but she seems to trust you, for some reason… I don't know why."

Castle tilts his head. He must admit, neither does he. Days ago, they tell him she called him multiple times, but he never crossed roads with her before this case, so why _does_ she seem to put her trust in him?

"I could try and talk to her," Castle says, "But frankly, Mrs. Tanner, I don't know what I can do… I mean, you're the natural person to address to if she really needed help with something, I'm a total stranger."

At that, Natasha chuckles, "We're not that different at all, Mr. Castle, at least when it comes to Charlie."

Blinking, he's confused, "I don't understand whatever do you mean," he says.

Her eyes travel along the hallway, like to make sure the coast is clear, before saying feebly, "I told detective Beckett that I'll do anything for my daughter, but…" looking deeply into his eyes, she says-

"The truth is, Mr. Castle… Charlie is not my daughter. She never was."

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	11. Chapter 6 Part 2

**A/N- ****So here's the second part. Stay tuned, and the mystery is about to be solved in chapter 7.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Equation With One Variable:<strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 6 (part 2):<strong>

* * *

><p>"She's <em>adopted<em>?!" Beckett gasps, astonished.

They're in Beckett's car, heading off to Analíah's place, Beckett receiving the call about something suspicious going on there.

"So it seems, " Castle responds, "Charlie's been abandoned in the hospital where Natasha worked as a nurse," he continues, "Back in Canada. She suspects maybe it is why Charlie never felt the mom-vibe thing towards her."

…"Because she wasn't her real mom," Beckett says.

Castle nods.

"That's weird."

Tilting his head, he says, "Not at all; I mean, plenty of people choose to adopt every day, and…"

"That's not what I mean," Beckett's eyes are on the road again, "I mean _that's weird_. People don't often go and tell total strangers their kid is adopted. Why would Natasha offer up something _so intimate_ of her life to you?"

Humming, Castle has to admit she has a point there, "Well," he shrugs, "She said Charlie trusts me, for some reason. Maybe Natasha trusts me, as well?"

Clicking her tongue, gazing out, Beckett emits a doubtful sound, "Well, a lot of trust we have going on, but never enough answers."

As they exit the car, minutes later, Ryan and Espo are already there, talking with an old lady with a walker.

When approaching, Esposito and Ryan give them a look. "No scoring on this one," Esposito says, "Guy was spotted sniffing around, trying to get into Analíah's apartment. Tracy here…" he gestures towards the old woman, who nods, "says he's not from around here. As soon as she asked what he was looking for, he took off running towards the back-street."

Beckett turns to their witness, "Did you take a good look at him, can you describe this man?" she asks urgently.

Tracy nods, saying, "Yes. A very scary man! He seemed about 60 or so… smelled of Tobacco, had dark hair…" she scratches her forehead, "And he had a big tattoo across his arm, of a… a skull or something…"

Castle's eyes widen. Scary man. Dark hair. A skull tattooed across his arm…

"Cain," he snarls, remembering the man that haunted his childhood. The fists and spanks, the torture, "Cain was here," he repeats, his voice leaking with hate, "he was here."

* * *

><p>Needless to say, Cain was nowhere to be found. Beckett hisses with annoyance once realizing he got away. Castle just shakes his head.<p>

"This man is a mastermind of covering his tracks," he says feebly, "He trafficked children for years without getting caught, it won't be easy taking him down," Castle must admit he's not optimistic.

"He's a very arrogant criminal," says Beckett in response, "and arrogant people, at one point or another- make mistakes, and when that happens, there we will be, ready to take him down," she's confident, which helps cheering him up a bit.

They soon get that there's nothing more for them to do in that place, so minutes after, they return to the precinct.

"Still nothing on Analíah?" Gates arches an eyebrow as soon as they cross the bullpen; "Not yet, Sir," Beckett shakes her head, "But we got uniforms to search all over the place for her, she won't get far."

"Well, that I hope," she says, turning back to her office.

* * *

><p>Castle and Beckett turn to bed early, and Beckett's soft and deep breaths hint that she succeeded falling asleep, minutes ago.<p>

Castle stays wide awake, his mind filled with too much data, body tickles with energy.

Both his heart and soul yearn to know where Analíah is. Why is she hiding, not coming forward, proving them how wrong they all are.

He knows her. Knows what rests in her heart. Knows she incapable of doing all those things. All he needs is to understand.

Darting upright in his bed, he realizes he won't get to the bottom of this just staying in their room. He needs to do something.

Lifting the blanket, he comes to a decision.

In the dark, he reaches for his socks.

* * *

><p>The door slightly creaks when he makes his way into the dark apartment, one he realizes Analíah once lived in.<p>

Beckett wouldn't be happy, breaking and entering wasn't his deal anymore, but he knew this time was different, this time he had to find answers for what haunted him for 30 years.

The place is dark, and he hopes no one heard him come in.

He uses his phone as a flashlight, searching and passing the small rooms, in search for… he's not entirely sure what.

Opening drawers, he find newspapers, books, and he looks for something that may hint on the solution for all of his unanswered question.

He passes shelves, files, everything he can get his hands on.

And minutes after, is where he finds it.

It's a folder. Brown and old, containing documents.

Opening it quietly, he sticks his phone to the paper, trying to have a better look, trying to read what the files say.

He gasps as he realizes what's going on. "My God…" he mumbles, "Analíah, _why_?"

* * *

><p>The phone ringing forces her out of sleep, and dizzily, Beckett reaches for the other side of the bed, somewhat taken aback when realizing her partner is not in bed with her.<p>

Grabbing her cell-phone, she presses the green button, "Beckett," she scrubs her eyes, still half asleep.

"Beckett?!" Ryan calls distantly.

His urgent voice shakes her out of it completely, "What is it, Ryan?" she's in full detective mode.

"Beckett, you have to get Castle, now!" he urges, "Fredrick Heigs kicked the bucket."

Wait, _what?!_

_"What the hell happened?"_

"Heart failure, couple of hours ago, but listen, Beckett, it's not why I'm calling! We tracked down Analíah! She's not off the grid after all!"

Beckett feels her insides twisting. _Where are you, Castle_? She thinks_, Why aren't you here with me?_

Throwing the blanket off of her, she slides into her slippers, "Where is she, Ryan?" Beckett demands to know.

When he answers her, it's the moment when it all comes together.

* * *

><p>Jumping into his own Ferrari, the engine roars, and he's off to his next destination.<p>

Castle knows he's probably breaking more than one traffic law, with this crazy driving, but right now, he doesn't care.

Facts cross his mind like tiny spikes pinching. Tiny pieces assembled into the perfect picture, no longer a senseless puzzle.

It is a moment of epiphany… they've had it all wrong. They ignored the most random and obvious thing. How could he overlook this simply truth?

He feels enraged. Frustrated. Angry at Analíah's lies, at her somewhat betrayal. Angry that she did this to him.

He presses the gas pedal strongly.

His phone rings, and he reaches for it. "Castle," he snaps thoughtlessly.

"Rick," his anger melts completely as he hears her perfect voice. She's pleading, "_Babe, where are you_?"

"On my way to end this." He replies short.

"Rick, don't go there without backup, they'll hurt you! Analíah…"

"I know," he shakes his head, "She's alive… she's…. I know, Beckett."

It was all a set-up. Right from the start. And like a helpless animal, he fell into the trap, face down.

"She killed Wilkinson, you know," he coughs a second later.

"I know, Castle," Beckett says, "Just wait, I'm on my way with Javi and Ryan… don't do anything stupid."

"I'm not…" Castle answers, "But this is my fight. I'm not going to be their pawn, anymore."

And with that, he hangs up the phone.

Reaching his destination five minutes later, he jumps off the car, running into the place that came familiar in the last couple of days.

He knows who awaits him in the apartment. It's stupid to go unprotected. More than stupid.

But he's sick and tired of it all.

He just wants to end it all.

When approaching the condo, he's surprised to find the door slightly open.

He's expected.

Pushing it open, he's welcomed by darkness; he softly shuts the door behind him. And that when the light is turned on.

What he sees only half surprises him.

A man sitting on a chair, a man he well knows. Tied, sweaty and obviously dazed, Cain's empty eyes greet him.

Behind him, pointing a gun to his head, stands a young man with silky blonde hair. It only takes a second for Castle to recognize him.

"The fake Henry Jenkins," he mumbles to himself. The man's tight lips stretch into the smallest of smiles.

But what takes his full attention is the woman standing to his left, her dark hair falling on her back, her gun points to his head.

Her eyes are round with fatigue, as he expects them to be. But it's determination sparkling in them, not compromise of any kind.

Slowly, he raises his arms in surrender.

"You shouldn't have come here," she tells him, approaches him threateningly, "You know better than that."

"You don't want to do this…" he mumbles silently, sad, "The NYPD is after you, your face is all over the news by now…"

"You think I care?!" she spits, anger flooding her, "Did they ever care? I did what was _right_." She points the gun at him, emphasizing.

"You killed Aaron Wilkinson," he says slowly, "you _killed_ a man! They won't let you just walk away."

"Oh, but we will walk away," she says, positively, "both of us," nodding at fake-Jenkins.

"You know I couldn't just let you leave," he says slowly, needing her to understand, "not after you have blood on your hands, not after this…" he refers to drugged and captured Cain.

"You said you would?" she challenges, and the gun in her hand now points to his chest.

"Really?" he asks, sad, disappointed. "You're going to pull the trigger? After everything?"

When she hesitates, he repeats his question, not intending on making it any easier for her, "Are you going to shoot me, Charlie?"

* * *

><p><span><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong>

_**"He was right. Anal**__**í**__**ah's lies were painful, but she wouldn't have spilled another's blood for revenge.**_

_**Charlie? Well, she's a totally different story."**_


	12. Chapter 7 Part 1

**A/N-****So, here's chapter 7, which will hopefully make things clearer. Please read and review!**

**I thought of adding a "tag" to the story, to tell in more detail about the weeks Rick was missing (will still be rated T, I'm not planning on offending anyone). **

**Will it be something you guys be interested in reading? please leave your opinion concerning this in your reviews, thanks.**

**Again, thank you for all the support!**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Equation With One Variable:<strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 7 (part 1):<strong>

Charlie's gun still pointed at him, he gulps, his gaze never leaving her deep eyes.

"I don't want to do this, Rick," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, "Don't force my hand."

"Charlie," he says, taking a tiny step forward, and so does she, her gun still directed at him, "You have a choice. You both have," he then looks at fake Henry Jenkins, "turn yourselves in. Let the police have him," he turns to look at Cain, who chuckles humorlessly, "It's over."

Fake Jenkins shakes his head, "But it's not over, Mr. Castle, It never was," he explains, "Don't you get it?"

"Of course he doesn't," Charlie snaps, "he remembers nothing, we planned it this way," she tells Jenkins.

His eyed widen, "You knew?" he asks, incredulous, "You know what this was all about?!"

"Of course," she replies, "It all worked perfectly…"

"You had me _abducted_?!" he practically yells, "_Why_? why on earth would you…"

"Don't you get it, Castle?!" Charlie cries, "It was for you! Right from the start! We did it all _for you_!"

* * *

><p><em>Flames. Heat. Burning pain.<em>

_The SUV that hit him was not in sight, he could feel the injuries, burning, and could taste his own blood in his mouth._

_Blinding pain._

_Kicking the car-door open, he could feel himself sinking to the ground, only barely conscious._

_Dizzy, he watches as the perfect blue sky turned into endless inferno, torturing pain._

_"Castle…" a soft whisper; he can hardly hear any…_

_"Castle, you have to stay with me, ok? You're going to be fine…"_

_Blinking rapidly, his voice thick, body shakes from horror and ache, he sees deep orbs gazing curiously into his._

_Velvet dark hair, creamy skin, innocent eyes examining him…_

_"Kate…?" he mumbles incoherently._

_The figure shakes it's head, "No," she says, "I'm not Kate… but I'll help you, we have to get out of here…" her head turns to talk with someone, "David, the SUV, the driver, where is…"_

_"He's gone," a male voice says in response, castle notices his tall figure, clear face and filthy blonde hair._

_"Richard, listen, we're going to take care of you, don't worry… you're in danger, but we're going to make sure it'll all turn out fine… "_

* * *

><p>"You," Castle says softly, "You took me from the accident-scene," he says, puzzled.<p>

Charlie nods, "The cops said there were two foot print traces, apart from yours. Said you were dragged. It was all true." She completes.

The fake Jenkins continues, "It was hard to carry you. Your large built body was an issue, and you were seriously wounded. Dragging you was the only way possible to bail the place…"

"The SUV…"

"The SUV that crashed into your car was registered to the man behind all of this," Charlie says, "They called him 'The Wolf'. He was the one orchestrating this whole deal. The child trafficking… the women trafficking…" she turns to Cain, "He was your boss, wasn't he, _you piece of trash_?!"

In response, Cain laughs, than spits in Charlie's direction. She backs away, disgusted.

"But I took care of him, as he was only partly informed of what went behind the scene," the fake Jeninks says, almost proud of himself. "He wasn't hard to deal with. And boy, I waited for that moment long enough…."

Castle can just stare. Mumbling something, he finally asks, quite rudely, "Who _are you_?"

Turning to Charlie, she nods at him after a short pause. His attention is then back on Castle, "My name…" he says, "My _real_ name is David Swan. I am the father of Emily Swan."

Forehead wrinkled, Castle swears he knows the name from somewhere, "Emily Swan," he says then, "The girl who disappeared a few months ago?"

An expression of contained sorrow crosses the main face, "Emily didn't disappear," he says sternly, voice hoarse, "She was taken from the dorms… by a guy _Wilkinson_ and his so called _partners_…"

Castle realizes then, "Your daughter was one of the women they sold," he says. It isn't a question.

David nods, slowly, "I have connections others don't have…" he says, "investigating, I found out who those people really were. What were they after. It wasn't hard to guess… that was when I found Charlie…" he says, turning to look at the teenager, "Who had her own suspicions regarding her 'friend'."

"We knew Cain worked with Aaron and Jason, to take those girls, just like they took you and the children 30 years ago, they all still worked for 'The Wolf'… But the boss was afraid… afraid that someone would connect him to what happened back then… that's when he decided to start haunting you all. Kill all those who he kept in that cabin… so his new scam won't get blown."

Castle is shocked, overwhelmed. What? Is this real? Why…

"Eleven children escaped that night…" Swan adds, "Five of them survived the woods. Jordan and Jonathan were killed before the first hour of flee was completed. We know for sure that some of the remaining survivors were you,Analíah and Shira. We're not sure about the other two. Shira drowned in sea few months later."

Castle feels suffocated. Shira… beautiful, innocent Shira.

"Knowing Analíah probably fled as far as she could, 'The Wolf' knew the only danger for his trafficking plot was you," Charlie says, "You're a famous novelist, and recognizing him or some of the repetitive actions and circumstances was something he couldn't risk… so he decided to kill you first, before trying to trackAnalíah."

Finally lowering her weapon, she continues, "He didn't realize that the hunter was about to become the hunted. Never the original one, he planned the same things, same actions, but instead of minors, he looked for women… like a never-ending equation in which the variable is the only difference."

"He knew you're about to get married, have a family, and wanted it all to be dramatic. His own twisted revenge. He wanted it to look like an accident. But we figured it out. We followed him as he followed you… as soon as your care was forced into that ditch, I came and tried to attend you.

'The wolf' tried to bail, but David shot him…"

"It wasn't a shot to kill," David Swan says, sounds regretful, "fact that he disappeared was a big screw up."

"Something that wasn't our concern, back then. Our concern was only for you," he can see the honesty in her eyes. "But the SUV. It was a problem…"

* * *

><p><em>"Stay still, Richard," Charlie says, patching his chest and leg. After her devoted treatment, only few minor bruises were seen on his face, underneath a curtain of soft make-up.<em>

_"It hurts," he hisses pitifully._

_"Well," she responds, chuckling, "Someone did just try and roll your car down the precipice, so… oh, Rick, don't move!"_

_"Ouch!" he whines._

_She knows he's tense, and grumpy. He was supposed to get married over an hour ago, and now, the three of them are in this distant warehouse, he's with no bride, no car, and no remaining dignity._

_His face must be all over the news right now, something which might just add to his grumpiness._

_She clicks her tongue, then, turning back to David, "Will you stop with all that pacing?" she says, "You're making me nervous."_

_"Well, I guess then, you can tell me what we're supposed to do with that car parked right outside?" he raises an eyebrow, "We have to get rid of it! If we want to uncover this plot and nail down this guy, we cannot have this obvious evidence connected to us."_

_Pursing her lips, Charlie agrees, "We have to get rid of it." She says._

_"Any ideas?"_

_His eyes travel between the two of them, Castle offers his own help, "I…. think I know a way…" he says._

_They both look at him, curious._

* * *

><p>"You offered the services of your Hamptons friend," David Swan says, "gave him a call, talked to him about the SUV. It was just about two hours later when you dropped the cash… and the vehicle was history.."<p>

Castle gulps, but doesn't dare to stop her, as all of his is new to him, like happened to a different person.

"When David and I met, he told me about Emily. I felt obligated to help," Charlie says, "'The Wolf' was after you and Analíah, so naturally, we wanted both of your alive and well…" pausing, she adds, "We needed you to help us tracking him down… ending this thing one and for all. And for that, we all needed to stay off the grid. Far from family or friends."

"We located two possible sources of the trafficking. One was in New York city, and the exchange was to be in Milford area… the second… in Montreal. We needed your help following possible leads, and that was why you were with us those weeks." She summons.

His wheels turning, he suddenly realizes. So this… all of this… was planned. Right from the start. He was never really abducted.

God, he _willingly_ took part in all that.

David curiously looks at him then, "But all that we tell you now…" he says, "Was never supposed to leave the warehouse…" he tilts his head, "yet, for some reason, you realized something was up…." He pauses. "_How_?"

Castle takes a deep breath, "I just followed the breadcrumbs, David," he says, "I knew there was something I missed, so I went to a late night visit to Analíah's apartment."

He can hear Charlie gulps loudly, and his attention is back to her, "I found a folder… when I discovered some very interesting things. Like the fact, that Analíah did survive the woods. She escaped and was adopted by French immigrants in Massachusetts. She grew up and married a shoemaker, who later died in a car accident. And he left her pregnant."

Never leaving the eyes of the young girl, he continues, "Analíah was left heartbroken and poor. She couldn't face motherhood, fearing to be an unsuitable mother. Yet she couldn't even thing of aborting her baby. So soon after the delivery… she gave the child for adoption. Gave it to a young nurse called Natasha Tanner, soon after naming the baby… _Charlotte_."

Charlie's body starts shaking, and Castle's face softens, "That is why you're part of this…" he says, "Not for the girls, not for justice… just for retribution… you're Analíah's daughter."

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	13. Chapter 7 part 2

**A/N- So sorry for the long wait! Sadly, my mother's condition worsened and she has to struggle twice as hard to defeat the cancer, and I try and do my best on giving some optimism and strength. So, my head wasn't really in writing lately.**

**However, writing is also my medicine and it gives me some peace of mind, and this story is my baby, so... I'm back.**

**Please leave your reviews, I'll appreciate them**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Equation With One Variable:<strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 7 part 2<strong>

* * *

><p>Castle doesn't need any verbal confirmation from Charlotte. He knows he reached the bottom of this, finally.<p>

Charlie's hold on her Glock tightens; her pursed lips are a thin line of protest, silent defiance. And Castle knows he got it right.

"You never felt any kind of mother-daughter for Natasha…" Castle continues, slowly pacing, Cain's beady eyes follow him mockingly, "And it didn't take long for you to figure out why… Natasha was never your mom. Analíah was."

Swan keeps his eye on the young teen, like making sure she holds her position steadily, but they all can see her outreached hand shaking slightly. Her eye twitches as her gaze travels to still tied up Cain, her expression leaks with hate.

"…You don't know anything," she shakes her head, miffed, "You don't know what _he_," she spits in Cain's direction, and he snarls at her, disgusted, "what any of them were about to do!"

"Yeah, I do know," Castle answers, his face grim, "I know, because I was there. Analíah was there, and she wouldn't have wanted you to…"

"My mother is dying," Charlie's words cut his insides like a knife. Her bottom lip trembles.

That takes him off guard.

Analíah is dying? He should have known. He saw the documents, but having it confirmed just fills him with a sense of melancholy, and deep sorrow.

"Leukemia," Charlie adds, "She's fading…." Tears are now visible in her eyes, "only weeks left, at most."

Castle thinks he understands now, "And you feel it's your job to fight her last battle for her?" he asks, sadly, "It's not your place to do her justice, it's…"

"Yes, it is her place," Swan intervenes, "She fights for her family, like I fought for mine, like you for yours," he adds, "Do you think they wouldn't have gone after your wife, or your only daughter, next? Alexis is young, in the right age, do you think they wouldn't have tried?"

The thought of them going after his family fills him with dead, his eyes widen slightly with horror, and he shivers.

"Because of them…" Charlie said, "I couldn't have my family…" her loath targets on Cain, again, "I couldn't have my mother with me, thanks to him!" she points the gun at the pimp, and Castle swallows, "And then he goes and tries his old tricks again, just like we all knew he would…"

Castle swallows the lump in his throat, and Charlie continues, "that's why we had to stop them, all three of us," she says, then releases a soft sigh.

* * *

><p><em>"Are you serious?" Charlie hisses at him, "Why did you do that?! Weren't David and I clear enough? We said NO CONTACT!"<em>

_Scratching his forehead in frustration, Castle holds his ground, "I have to do something," he argues, "I couldn't… Kate must be worries sick…"_

_"Well, so must be David's wife!" Charlie accuses, moving slightly in her chair, her eyes checking the window every once in awhile, "but going outside? You could have been seen! And so close to the bank, that is!" she shakes her head in disapproval, "What were you doing there, anyway?"_

_"I had to do something…" Castle tries to explain, "I opened an account.. have a safe deposit box, I put the disk in there, like David did with…-"_

_"You did WHAT?" Charlie snaps, "What for? Richard, those were supposed to be out last resort," she exhales, noticing her partner's figure approaches, "..don't tell him," she orders, "he won't like this."_

_"That ship sailed long ago, Sugar," David Swan appears from the shadows, and Charlie groans softly, "I follow Richard's every move, like I do yours, Charlotte… don't you know me by now?"_

_Shutting her eyes close momentarily, her focus is again on her partner, who stares at Castle callously._

_"That stunt you pulled a couple of hours ago could have cost us the entire operation, Richard Castle," David Swan says, obviously put out, "I expect that to never occur again. And it won't, not under my watch."_

_Castle turns his head aside, refusing to look into David's eyes, but the trio knows who has the upper hand here. "You'll see your fiancé once the danger is dealt with," and with a softer tone he concludes, "You know it's the only way."_

* * *

><p>Charlie starts pacing, behind her, David lets her tell the story, "It was difficult for you, being away for your family…" she says, "Not one day passed without you letting Kate's name pass your lips, but you knew we did what was best for all… even if the price to pay was almost unbearable…"<p>

"After losing 'The Wolf'," Swan interjects, "I was even more determined to not let him slip through my fingers again. We tracked down his whereabouts, but knew we have to raise the bets if we want to take him down…"

"…We weren't going to follow him, anymore," Charlie adds, "We wanted him to come to us."

* * *

><p><em>The tent was way too close to the waters, too much for his own feeling of self security.<em>

_Charlie felt his deep displeasure, and said quietly, adjusting the clothes and watch in the small sleeping bag, "I know it's not exactly your cup of tea," she mumbles, double checking everything, "but it's important he knows you're here, otherwise it won't work."_

_Way too close to the waters… "So let me see if I get this. You pulled me out of my burning car because he was after me…" he twists his face, "and now you're using me as a sitting duck? How is that ok?"_

_"You're not going to be here, of course," she explains, "But it's important 'The Wolf' believes so. Once he comes after you, and he will… then we nail him down. But it's important it'll look you set here for long, where's your tuxedo?"_

_"Here," Castle says quietly, handing her his expensive clothing with a sigh. Kate was supposed to pass her delicate hand over those cloths, as he held her tightly to the soft music of 'You're in my veins'._

_And now…_

_"Listen," she says, "this is how it's going to work," taking a deep breath, she lets him in, "He's a coward, so he'll probably come at night, when he believes you're asleep. We're gonna have him followed. Since he likes to be in control at all times, we'll try to drive him into the waters… that's his weak spot. There should be a boat waiting for us at the other side of the river, the western cabin is not far from there… you keep up?"_

_Giving a tiny nod, he says "Yes."_

_"We'll try and get him alive, but just in case…" she gives him a long look, then pulls a Glock 45 out of her bag, handing it over, "How are you with a gun?" she asks_

_"I can handle it," is all he offers._

_"Like I thought," she says shortly, and after checking everything one last time, she gets up from her squatting position, signing him to follow, "C'mon," she says, "Let's get the hell out of here."_

* * *

><p>"We kept our position few kilometers from that tent," Charlie says, and Castle remembers. The tent in which they thought he was 'supposedly' hiding for months.<p>

He knew it wasn't the case. Of course it has to be a setup. But turns out, a setup he was part of… to bring 'The wolf' out of hiding.

He feels nauseated.

"We planned to take him down…alive, and hand him over to the cops," David Swan says, "It wasn't supposed to turn out this way…" his voice starts trembling abruptly.

His gaze turns to Charlie, who gives him an unsure glance, then says, "Just end this, David, tell him what happened."

Eyes travel between her and Castle, he himself feels confused. David Swan is at the crossroads, and softly says, "you weren't supposed to know…" his shoulders drop in surrender, "We dosed you with so many drugs to make sure nothing remains…not even the slightest flashback…"

Castle gulps… _'What happened_'? his mind screams, 'WHAT HAPPANED?'

After a short pause, David decides, and with a grunt, he let this all surface…

* * *

><p><em>The cold and humidity combined were something Castle isn't used to. The surrounding is tropical, Castle feels out of place here, he bends down, behind the small trees, can feel Charlie slowly moving somewhere to his west, her mahogany long hair dances to the wind in waves.<em>

_He knows the slightest rustle should alert him, Charlie is with contact with David Swan, they should wait._

_And so they do. For a very long time. Castle starts getting nerveous._

_"…Psst!" He whispers to Charlie, even though he can hardly spot her in the dark, he knows she hears him, "think we're blown?"_

_"No," she says, "David knows what he's doing, now be quiet, I think that-…"_

_BAM! The noise alert him, and a soft cry is heard._

_Charlie!_

_She grabs the side of her face with both hands, cries out "FUCK!" and darts up in a second._

_That's Castle's cue, and Castle follows suit, her cry of "RUN! RUN! RUN!" is his echo._

_BAM! BAM! BAM! The branches shake and break as the duo starts running away from whatever it is that found them, probably 'The Wolf'._

_"Shit!" he hears Charlie cries out in pain and frustration, and she nothing but voices aloud his own thoughts._

_They were obviously spotted, and should have predicted it. 'The Wolf' didn't get his nickname for nothing. He was a very skilled predator._

_Castle feels his lungs burn with the effort of the flee, and for a second, he's not in the tropical jungle-like greens, but deep in the darkest Hollender's woods._

_'Run, Richard' Analiah's voice urges him, 'run and don't look back…'_

_Run, run run run…_

_"David! What the hell's going on?" Charlie's voice screams at the PTT, fearful and agitated._

_BAM! Another branch breaks._

_"David! He's shooting at us, David!" she cries, "Where the hell are you?!"_

_They're on a blind, and Castle doesn't like it. He doesn't like it at all._

_"Charlotte!" David Swan's voice answers abruptly, "We're blown, he figured it out!" he calls, obviously pissed, "Where are you guys headed to?!"_

_"East!" she calls, Castle right in front, his muscles start hurting from the effort. But they can't afford to stop._

_"Listen, Charlie!" David calls, "The lake should be minutes away, I'm headed your way, should be there in a few, lead him to the waters! Don't lose him!"_

_And so they keep running, till the trees disappear suddenly, they can hear someone shooting behind them, and they head off towards the beach, they notice David Swan waiting for them._

_They have to catch their breath, Castle's thin shirt is so soaked with sweat he basically can swim in it._

_Pulling out his own gun, Castle loads it, following David's guidance._

_"Charlie," he commends, "You say here. Castle, you head south, I'll take the eastern parts. He'll want to take this on the ground in the open. Since it's not our comfort zone, it'll have to do."_

_Breathing heavily, Castle agrees, nodding once._

_"Let's go, then!" loading his own rifle, he takes the left turn behind the group of trees. "Castle!" he calls suddenly._

_Castle listens._

_"You have a gun. Don't be afraid of using it."_

_And so they split, Castle takes his on route, darkness envelops him again._

_It's minutes after when he hears the shots._

_His hears thunders like drums, he holds his own weapon in determination, hesitates of shooting it. He can hardly sea behind the curtain of trees, but he can hear the shoots._

_BAAM! He hears and the sudden wave of pain takes him by surprise. He feels his lower stomach and legs on fire, deep drops of red humid his hand when he touches the wound._

_He's shot, he realizes. And Damn, if it doesn't hurt like hell._

_A soft cry leaves his mouth, and another shot is heard next to him._

_'You have a gun…' David's voice mocks him, 'Don't be afraid of using it…."_

_Raising his hand, fighting the fog that threatens him, he can barely breathe when pulling the trigger._

_A shot is heard in the forest, and another one. He's pretty positive whoever he shot at, whoever was this wolf, he was shooting back._

_He dares to pull the trigger again, and again after that._

_It all falls silent…. Then, "NO!" he can hear Charlie's voice cries out in agony, "Oh my God, please, no!"_

_Her distress voice pushes him forward to the open field again, he can hardly stand as fear and pain take their grip on his fatigued self._

_As he approaches, runs, he noticed, in the darkness, Both Charlie and David lean above something. Both of them alive. Thank the Lord._

_Then…what?_

_Noticing him approaches, David looks at him painfully, "He's dead, Castle," Swan cracks painfully, as Charlie stands up, approaching him, "You killed 'The Wolf'. You did it, it's over…"_

_He tries to understand it all. HE SHOT SOMEONE DEAD? Oh, God. _

_Even it being the demon that haunted him for 30 years, he just killed someone! He feels his world starts twisting in circles, wishes to wake up in his own bed, Kate lightly kissing his neck…_

_But no, it's not dream._

_He gulps, and feels Charlie starts pushing him backwards, "It's ok, Richard…" she whispers, "Don't look… Oh God….It's ok, it's over."_

_But no. Oh, God, no! he shot him dead. He needs to at least see his face, take it all in._

_"No," he pushes Charlie, stepping forward, wanting to look at the body of the pimp, "I have to see for myself."_

_Dark fabric surrounds the body, and Charlie's attempts of stopping him are unsuccessful._

_Lifting the coat at once, he peeks, and almost vomits._

_There lies 'The Wolf'. His face callous even in death, wrinkles cover his narrow face, his hair silver._

_But it's not what makes him want to scream._

_Beneath the body, there are two more._

_Right there, like sleeping angles, are tossed the bodies of two small children._

_Death caresses them in a blanket of innocence._

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><p><strong><em>TBC...<em>**


	14. Chapter 7 part 3

**A/N: Hallo, after a long time, here's another update. Truly sorry it took that long, but I fully intent on finishing the story soon.**

**I will also update the following conclusion, "Unsolved Equation."**

**Please notice, both this fic and the sequel have a special playlist I'll be soon post on YouTube under the same user. You're welcome to follow.**

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><p><strong><span>Equation With One Variable:<span>**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 7 part 3<span>**

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><p>Castle feels his knees buckle, and he struggles to keep himself together. Charlie gulps, shaking her head, "Their names were Jeff and Audrey Evans," she feebly lets on, "five and seven year old siblings," she licks her lips, "they were taken and used as shields by this criminal, we didn't know…" closing her eyes momentarily, she adds, "there was nothing left for us to do…"<p>

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><p><em>His eyes widen, Castle wheezes, body vibrating, "I killed them," he shrieks, holding Charlie's body tightly enough to leave bruises, "Oh, God!" he cries, "I killed them!"<em>

_And she has trouble holding him back, he's vibrating helplessly, disbelieving. Gulping, Charlie tries to reason with him, "Richard, you didn't kill them," she says, "He did, when he decided to use them against us," she tries to grab his shaking arms, but he won't look at her, he's focused on the two tiny, unmoving figures…_

_"But…" he gasps, "I shot them! I killed them!" he looks at her, horrified, eyes begging her to tell him it's all just a bad dream, they'll stand up to run on the beach, laughing, "I killed them…"_

_David, behind them, sighs impatiently, "Richard," he tenses, tone scolding, "You have to snap out of it! We didn't know they'd be here!" and to Charlie, he says, "There is no time for us to spend here," she nods, agreeing._

_Swan gives the two dead children a short, sad look, remembering Emily, perhaps, and after a pause, he continues, "We'll bury them in the woods, far from here, they would never know what happened"_

_That snaps Castle out of the shock, and he yelps, "No!" forehead wrinkles in protest, "I can't just walk away! I have to tell the…"_

__"WHO?!" Charlie snarls at him, "the cops? You're gonna show up at the closest station after months of being missing, saying you just shot two kids dead? Be reasonable, Richard! For all we know, his men may still be out there! You CAN'T. SAY. ANYTHING!" she pushes him, "or more women and children would die, if we let this operation go!"__

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><p>"It took some convincing, but at the end of the day, I managed to calm you down enough to listen to common sense," Charlie says, "We basically had to drag you away from there," her eyes conveys frustration, even more when she sees the look reflecting from Castle's eyes.<p>

Sorrow. Shock. Grief.

Self loathing.

"I joined you back at the northern cabin, while David took care of the situation back at the river," she says quietly, "We waited for long hours, in case the rest of 'The Wolf's men would come haunting us down," she offers Cain a look of distain, and he spits on the floor, contempt obvious in his eyes.

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><p><em>He looks at the window, a lone tear sliding down his face.<em>

_They were innocent, both of them. No older than Jordan was when they…._

_He takes a deep breath, a fresh wave of pain flooding him, suffocating…_

_Did their mother look for them, like Martha looked for him, when he was a child? Is she sitting on the porch, like Martha, decades ago, waiting for their return from the unknown?_

_Will she ever know what happened to them? What… he did?_

_Sensing Charlie approaches, he sniffs once, hearing her soft voice when she said- "You can't keep beating yourself over this, Richard," a sigh follows, "You didn't know what he was up to. None of us did. Had you known, you wouldn't have pulled the trigger."_

_But he did. Self defense or not, he did._

_"They were taken from an orphanage, two weeks ago," She offers a useful information, "Their mother died when they were two years old, father dumped them there, he was a no-good drunken loser." She shrugs._

_So nobody misses them… It's supposed to make it easier? It doesn't. The two children were dead, and there is no-one to mourn for them, even._

_Castle feels like screaming._

_He can't help but thinking… Even if this whole thing ends, at some point, how can he go on? Looking at his hands, he'll always feel them dipping in blood, blood of two small human beings, who died because of his actions._

_How can he un-do this? How will he be able to look into his family's eyes? How will he face Kate?_

_"What am I going to do, Charlie?" he turns to look at her, helpless, "Where do I go from here?" he asks._

_Charlie lowers her head, as she honestly doesn't know; seconds later, she shrugs, "You just move forward," she offers, "Just like David."_

_Burying his head in his hands, he shakes his head, then mumbles, "I wish I could just… forget," he leans backwards in his chair, helpless, "forget this ever happened," to her sad face, he continues, "I just want to go home…"_

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><p>Castle gulps, shocked.<p>

"Now you understand?" Swan paces the room, slowly, "from the beginning, it was all for you," he then continues, "We needed you. We needed you on our team, and for that we needed you healthy minded, and we knew that it was only possible thanks to the fact that you forgot what happened that day…"

Castle feels sick. Sick with himself, with them, and very much angry, that they all played with him, this way.

He tries to remember the faces of the children, but fails. What did they drug him with, to make this whole fiasco totally blank?

Trying to grasp it all and failing, he simply asks, "What happened?"

"It was two hours later, when it all went to hell," Swan says, "They attacked us at the safe house, we had to bail," and Charlie nods with confirmation, "we ran, got separated, I didn't know who they were after… next thing I hear, they find you in the middle of the ocean with gunshot wounds."

"We guess you took the boat we had near the shore and tried to flee," Charlie says, and at his frown, she answers, "That was the instruction. In case you cannot find your way back to us, you wait an hour and then take the boat and save yourself. And you did… after the injections."

"Once you confirmed you didn't remember anything, we knew it was a step at the right direction…" Swan adds, "but then you started offering rewards… I couldn't afford you drawing attention. I was following Cain, 'The Wolf' was dead… we had to get you off of this, if we ever intended on keeping you safe."

"And then, all of a sudden, we hear about Aaron Wilkinson's new gig with this asshole," she approaches Cain, the gun points back to his head, his lips twist with hatred, "So yeah. I did what had to be done. Like always, I took care of it."

The pieces all come together now, "Fredrick Heigs…" he breathes in, and she smiles, "Heigs was a fool," she says, "He thought I didn't know any better. Came into my house with a gun… But I wasn't exactly helpless, either. David was there at the time… we tied him up, kept him in the basement for a few days…"

'Fredrick Heigs,' Castle is reminded of the doctor's words, 'His wrists were injured, like when tied together, as he tried to escape…'

_'Analiah… she's coming for me…'_

"What about Wilkinson?" Castle asks.

"Wilkinson was a pawn!" Charlie's obviously angry, "A 'Yes-Man'! Imagine what I went through, finding out he was a part of this! Like a stupid girl, I confronted him! And he's fucking _proud_ for being such a _macho_! He starts _hitting_ me, threatening that after he's done, he'll come after _you_ next!" Castle's eyes widen further, "So I took this effing' gun," she waves the weapon, "And I put a bullet in him!"

Overwhelmed, Castle looks at Swan, then at Charlie. His eyes wonder to Cain's smug face, back to Charlie again. Pleading, he tries to reason with them, "Kate is on her way over here," he says, "Don't make it more complicated than it needs to be…" he swallows, eyes begging, "just turn yourselves in…"

David Swan smiles, "We're not going to harm you, Richard," he says, softly, "and despite Charlie's rebellious character, she's not going to struggle either," his eyes travel to her, and Castle see that he knows her well; David Swan shrugs, "we just want this to end…" he looks tired, "all of this, to end…" after a pause, he concludes, "I've lost my Emily," his voice shakes, "She was everything to me…and they killed her. They took everything from Charlotte, as well… what's the point of struggling? No… we just want justice."

"Justice," Charlie spits, and it's only a second too late when Castle realizes what she's about to do.

"No, Charlie, wait, no!" he cries, barely has the time to see an abrupt fear appearing in Cain's eyes, the smile slowly fading, and then…

BOOM!

Cain falls backwards with a thud, blood pooling from the wound between his eyes, covering the floor with a puddle of red, and Castle gasps.

Swan's face is expressionless, Charlie offers no emotion. Her face just a bit stern, she looks at the dead man twisted next to her feet with an almost curiosity, like artist examining his new painting.

And that's when the door swings open with a kick, cries and threats of voices he recognizes...

"NYPD! DON'T MOVE!"

"ON YOUR KNEES!"

"HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!"

"ON THE GROUND! ON THE GROUND, NOW!"

For Castle, it's all a blur, a faded image of his team bursting through the door, armed, approaching the two young people threateningly, arresting them.

"Castle!" he hears the voice he adores so much, and suddenly, she's in his arms.

He holds her tightly, breathing her in.

Kate… Kate, Kate, Kate…

Over her shoulder, he can see the cops handling Swan and Charlie. She's now handcuffed, but doesn't say a thing as they go through her rights.

She smiles.

With a sudden pang of epiphany, he realizes it's not a sinister smile. It's a smile of acceptance. She knows what she's done, she knows she'll serve time for it, but she's at peace with it.

He wonders how can she… But then his gaze travels to the dead body on the floor, then back to her. That's his answer. Like himself, Cain haunted her dreams, too. He cannot judge her for it.

As she looks at the dead man, still bloody on the floor, Castle can almost hear her whispering, "For you, mom."


End file.
